Beautiful Disaster
by dudeurfugly
Summary: Dean's teenage daughter, Alyxandria, falls for a cute but mysterious new guy at her school, and manages to catch his eye, too. However, there's more to him than she could ever imagine...COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Supernatural Fanfiction**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, unfortunately. However, I** **do own Alyxandria, Oliver, Kylie, Lily and any other character you don't recognize, so please don't steal them! **

**Summary: Dean's teenage daughter, Alyxandria, falls for the mysterious but cute new guy at her high school, and manages to catch his eye, too. However, there's more to him than she could ever imagine… **

_An old, two-story house stood at the end of a crumbling blacktop driveway, beyond a rusty, cast iron fence. The house was surrounded by tall, pine trees and set back from the road in a field with dying, yellow grass. It seemed as if it hadn't been occupied in over a decade; the grass on its lawn was overgrown, weeds and moss infested the cracks in the blacktop, and ivy had begun to cover the right side of the house. The slate gray paint was chipping, and the wood was beginning to decay, either from termites, weather, or age. Some of the grimy windows had been boarded up or broken, and the charcoal black door was covered in spray paint from different vandals and troublemakers who wanted to leave their mark. _

_The house's decrepit basement was dark, and dirty. The rickety, wooden steps led downward, to the large room, which had a cold, cement floor. Underneath the single, broken window, there was a table with a red candle on it, and a gun, with a pentagram and a Latin inscription etched into its wood. There was other black and red candles scattered all over, throwing off some light and giving the room an eerie glow. An older man with graying hair, dressed in a black business suit stood by the table, running his fingers over the gun, his eyes flashing with a fiery yellow, while a teenage boy stood over a teenage girl. The boy had shaggy, jet black hair and cobalt blue eyes. The young girl lying before him was tied up, her hands bound together tightly with a rope and a bandana covering her eyes. She was wearing a pentagram pendant around her neck. She had cuts and bruises all over her tired body; tears rolling down her frightened face… _

I awoke abruptly, sitting upright in bed as an almost deafening clap of thunder shook the entire house. I was trembling; beads of sweat dripping down my face. My clothing was damp and sticking to my moist skin. Another flash of lightning tore across the night sky as I scanned the dark room and I ripped the sheets off me. I hopped out of bed, shivering slightly when my bare feet made contact with the cold hardwood floor. I walked over to the bay window diagonal from the bed, and sat down on the soft cushions of the window seat, knees drawn up to my chest and my head resting lightly on the cold glass. Outside, the rain was pouring down in buckets, the fierce wind blowing it in every possible direction, and whipping the multicolored fall leaves off the trees.

When I was a little girl, I absolutely hated thunderstorms. The roaring, crackling thunder and bright flashes of light were enough to scare me half to death. I remembered waiting under the covers, whimpering, and trying to gather up my courage to run down the hall to my father's bedroom. I would stand in his doorway, hesitant to disturb him, knowing he hated being woken up at odd hours of the night, especially after coming home from a "business trip" (as he called them when I was little) tired and sore. But no matter how bruised, battered and exhausted my father was, I knew he would always make time for me.

An especially bright bolt of lightning or loud clap of thunder would prompt me to go scurrying to the side of his bed.

"Dad!" I'd yell urgently, half-whispering so I wouldn't wake up Sammy in the next room. "_Daddy_!" He'd stir a bit, groan and mutter under his breath, then open his eyes and look over at my tiny form, practically shaking with fear, clutching my favorite teddy bear.

"What is it?" he'd whisper back, gently. For such a strong and macho man, my dad had a softer side that only my uncle and I was able to see.

"I'm scared, Daddy." I'd tell him. He would pull me onto the bed and I would situate myself comfortably between the blankets, and cuddle close to him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne. He would wrap his arms around me and pull me to him, planting a kiss into the top of my head.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Alyx," he would say, as I played with the amulet that he never took off, "Nothing will happen to you as long as I'm here. I promise."

Only after those reassuring words were uttered, I would fall asleep, feeling safe in my father's arms. He was my protector; my role model. He was the sharpest, bravest hunter I knew, and I admired him greatly. Dean Winchester was my hero. He always managed to come to my rescue, and kept a close eye on me. It was his job, he told me once—it was his duty to keep Sam and me safe. After all, I was the only girl in his life now, since my mother, Jo (Harvelle) Winchester, had been killed when I was a baby. Dad doesn't like to talk about her death, obviously. The only thing he's told me was that they never found my mother's body, and searched for awhile until they assumed she had been killed, and buried an empty casket.

However, it hadn't been the thunder that had woken me up this time. I had gotten over that childish fear years ago. I had been waking up at 3:00 every morning without fail for the past two months from terrifying nightmares. These nightmares usually involved people close to me getting hurt, or dying, which wasn't pleasant to witness, because my greatest fear nowadays was losing someone I cared about. I wanted to talk to Sam about them, but I didn't want to bother him. He was plagued by his own dreams and visions.

The newest dream, which had been going on for a week, did not make any sense to me whatsoever. I didn't even recognize the guy in my dream, but he looked to be my age. (He was hot; I had to admit that.) It was really beginning to bother me, considering I was the teenage girl who'd been tied up in the basement of that old house, beaten and bloodied, with this guy. What would lead someone my age to cause me harm like that? Especially someone _that _good-looking.

I didn't really want to bring it up to Dad or Sam, because it would probably create some sort of panic in my household, knowing how overprotective my father and uncle was. If I said anything about having strange dreams, I'd be interrogated. I chose not to think about it any further and instead crept back into bed and closed my eyes to try to get some sleep before the alarm clock sounded.

As predicted, time flew by incredibly fast (unfortunately) and my radio went off at precisely 6:30, blaring rock music at an unearthly level of volume. I groaned, turned the radio off, and lay in bed, with the blankets as far up as they would go. The debate on when to actually get out of bed occurred on a daily basis. Stay in the nice warm bed, go to the freezing school? Which one would _you_ choose? Exactly. I'm not exactly a morning person. School is something I don't enjoy most of the time. I'm not cut out for it. If it weren't for Sammy being a Latin teacher at my high school, and his constant nagging about getting good grades and a decent education, I'd be a full-time hunter with my dad. And when I say 'hunter', I don't mean the hunting wild animals kind.

Let me elaborate for you. We Winchesters aren't your typical apple-pie-happy family. Our job is to hunt down supernatural creatures—anything from ghosts to demons. Insane? Maybe to you, but to us, it's the family business. Before you whip out that straitjacket, I'll explain why my family is involved in this unusual occupation. You see, my grandpa, John, started to learn about the paranormal after my grandma, Mary, was killed by this demon. My Dad and uncle went with him all over the country as he hunted, hoping to find and destroy the Demon, and helping other people along the way. Grandpa taught Dad and Sam the ropes as well, and they became hunters. However, the Demon took Grandpa John's life and Sam's girlfriend, Jess, too. It killed my mother, Jo, when I was a baby, also. When I was old enough, Dad and Sam showed me the tricks of the trade, and I've become a pretty damn good hunter myself.

I sighed and closed my eyes, wishing for at least five minutes of precious extra sleep. That never happened, as much as I'd like it to. I shouldn't have thought today was going to be any different.

"Alyx! You up?" Dad yelled, knocking vigorously on the door. I let out a frustrated groan and turned on my side to face the door. Stubbornly, I didn't answer. I thought it would be fun to see how long it took him to bust down the door and forcibly drag me out of bed, because I knew he was capable of that, from past experiences. "Alyx!" he shouted again. "Alyx, come on, get up!" I stifled a laugh, and buried myself under the blankets. "Alyxandria Mary Winchester, get your lazy ass out of bed now! Don't make me come in there…"

5…4…3…2…

A second later, the door flew open, hitting the wall with a thud, probably creating a large dent. I could hear him shuffle over to the side of the bed, and I knew he could hear me giggling. Suddenly, I felt something soft hitting me repeatedly, all over. My father, hunter extraordinaire, was smacking me with a pillow. A perfect example of his immaturity; I swear he's still got the mindset of a teenager. It just made him much cooler than the rest of the dads, though. Besides, he wasn't like any of the other fathers at school to begin with. He wasn't a doctor, or a lawyer, or someone who was stuck in a claustrophobia-inducing cubicle everyday wearing a stuffy, sophisticated business suit. He was a mechanic by day, supernatural ass-kicker by night. He was rebellious—breaking laws, running credit card scams, and impersonating authority figures. He wore faded, ripped jeans, band tees, and biker boots, and he has one sweet car. How many other forty-year-old Dads do you know of that fit that description?

"Oww! Ouch! Stop! Ah, stop…okay, okay, I'll get up! Have mercy! Ouch…" I yelled, half-laughing. He ripped the covers off me, and I glared up at him. He was holding the pillow over me, threatening to strike again. I pushed it away and stood up, grabbing a pillow of my own. "It's on, bitch!" I told him with a smirk. I have a colorful vocabulary like my dad, too. It's all his fault, for saying those words around me when I was little. I started whacking him with my pillow, and he hit me back. During the struggle, Dad cheated, picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder. "No fair! Jerk, you can't do that! Put me down!"

Sammy suddenly cleared his throat to acknowledge that he was standing in the doorway. He had a smug look plastered on his face. Dad and I simply gawked at him. We were caught in the act: a semi-chick-flick moment. It was totally against Winchester policy.

"How long have you been standing there?" Dad asked, dumping me very unceremoniously onto the bed.

"Long enough," Sam chuckled. "What a Kodak moment."

"Shut up, Sammy." Dad scoffed. Sam rolled his eyes and did a very exaggerated impression of my dad scolding him behind my father's back. I knew he hated when my dad called him Sammy. I'm the only one officially allowed to call him that, and he made that _very_ clear. I let out a giggle and Dad turned around sharply to shoot Sam a dirty look.

"What?" My uncle asked with a shrug, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. Dad shook his head and exited the room without a word. Sam and I shared another laugh before he left to let me get ready for the day.

I made my way over to the closet, dodging clothes (both dirty and clean) in random heaps, CD cases, magazines, books, and other various items scattered all over the floor. My room was a disaster zone, like any other teenager's. However, unlike the other kids, I don't get nagged to tidy it up. Dad didn't give a crap, and while Sammy hated the gigantic mess (he had a bit of OCD, even though he constantly denied it), he chose to not say a word about it. I usually cleaned when I felt like it, which was once in a great while.

Searching through the dark, supernatural depths of my closet—which is sometimes creepier than the things that go bump in the night—I managed to uncover a pair of black jeans and a semi-wrinkled Metallica T-shirt. Music was yet another thing my dad and I had in common, much to my uncle's displeasure. Dad used to play "mullet rock" for me when I was a baby because I cried constantly at night and I think that annoyed the hell out my father. (This goes back to his hatred of getting up at early hours.) Surprisingly, the heavy rock music was the only thing that shut me up. Dad blamed me for practically wearing his tapes out; that's when he finally upgraded to the wonderful invention called the CD.

I got dressed and slipped into my favorite pair of black Converse sneakers, and added a black studded belt to my outfit. I applied black eyeliner around my vibrant, green eyes and brushed out my pin straight, light brown hair. Once I was sure I was ready, I grabbed my black messenger back and ran downstairs to the kitchen. I found my best friend, Kylie Baker, sitting at the table eating a package of strawberry Pop Tarts and talking to my uncle. This wasn't anything unusual. Kylie lived about a mile away, and because we had been inseparable since the start of high school. Kylie even knew about our family business. Dad reluctantly let me tell her, but only because she was a believer of the paranormal. Her Aunt Genevieve down South is a self-proclaimed medium, and the owner of a voo-doo shop. Kylie and I went to visit her for a weekend last summer, and she told us all about voo-doo (even though I knew a lot about it already) and we were kind of forced into participating in a ritual-celebration thing. It was an experience, to say the least.

"Morning, sunshine!" My perky friend exclaimed, standing up and wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug. Kylie was tall, had platinum blonde hair streaked randomly with black, and icy blue eyes.

"Hey, Ky," I greeted. "I see you're eating my Pop Tarts _again_. I'm gonna have to start charging you for them, ya know." I joked.

"Well, maybe if you'd get your ass down here faster in the morning, then you'd get them before me," Kylie pointed out, stuffing the rest of the second Pop Tart in her mouth. She shoved the box into my arms, and I looked down to discover that it was empty. "It's really quite sad how I live about a mile away from you and _I_ get to _your_ kitchen faster than _you _do."

"Excuse me for not being a morning person," I muttered. "And I was held up by a certain _someone_ this morning." I shot a cold glance at my father.

"Alyx, you stopping by my work after school?" Dad asked, pretending like he hadn't heard me. Typical.

"Not today," I replied. "Kylie and I have a dance to go to, remember? The Halloween Dance we've gone to every year since we were freshman? The one that's the day before my _birthday_?"

"Your birthday is tomorrow?" Dad teased. I rolled my eyes.

"Ha, ha, ha…very funny. I love how you conveniently _try_ to forget."

"Yeah, yeah…don't you have school? Get lost." He smirked, shooing me away. I motioned for Kylie to follow, and said goodbye to Sam.

"Ya know, I would get to school faster _if I had a car_!" I hinted, before slamming the front door shut.

"I like how you snuck that in there. Very subtle." Kylie commented sarcastically, grabbing her bike from the driveway. I got my skateboard out of the garage, and we started down the street. The high school was a pretty short distance from my house, yet it was a pain to skate there when I wasn't fully awake. Too much energy involved. Kylie and I didn't drive to school with Sammy to avoid the humiliation of arriving with a teacher. However, I did give him credit; he was probably the coolest teacher there. Not to mention half the female student population of the school had a crush on him, as well as some single teachers, and single moms. I swear there's some sort of secret Sam Winchester Fan Club. He is a handsome guy, though. He may be in his late thirties, but he still has his boyish looks. The divorced or single mothers, and—disgustingly enough—unwed teachers and female students also drooled over my dad, which I found quite disturbing. That's why I begged him constantly to keep his appearances at Lawrence High School to a minimum. If he comes within a five-foot radius of the campus, he's instantly mobbed by rabid teenage girls. It's sick. Really.

"Who said I was trying to be subtle? He knows I want a car."

"Do you think he'd give you the Impala?"

"The Impala? Hell no! He doesn't trust anyone but himself with that car. It's like his other kid." I answered. It was the truth. Everyone knew how obsessed my dad was with his car. That stupid vehicle almost made me jealous with all the attention it got. Almost. Although, secretly I was praying to get the Impala, but I had a good feeling that that would never happen. Not in a million years.

"I don't know, Alyx. He did let you drive it once."

"Yeah, keyword being _once_. And even then he was yelling at me the entire time. I got grounded for two days just for putting a microscopic dent in his _baby_." Kylie laughed.

"I can picture that."

"Oh, I bet. It's not hard," I said. "My dad definitely takes his obsession to the next level. He's paranoid about that thing."

We arrived at the high school five minutes later. Pushing our way through the crowded halls, we made it up the stairs to the junior corridor and to our lockers, which were directly next to each other since we were in the same homeroom. I undid the combination lock and pulled open the door with a hard tug, jumping out of the way quickly to avoid any flying objects. My locker was as messy as my room. Let's just say I have an organization problem. Kylie and I gathered our books and binders for our respective classes and went into homeroom. We took a seat in the back, dropping our bags onto the floor.

"I'm super excited for tonight. It's going to be awesome, as always." Kylie stated matter-of-factly, referring to the school's Halloween Dance that was held every year on October 30, the day before the actual holiday.

"I know." I replied. The Halloween Dance was my favorite of the entire year, and it was always the most popular with the rest of the students.

We continued to talk for the majority of homeroom, ignoring the announcements (Who really listened to those anyway?) and focusing on the upcoming weekend. Kylie was going to sleepover after the dance, and on Halloween we were going to have a little party for my birthday. I was getting excited about turning sixteen. It meant that I was legally able to drive—which my dad was thankful for, because he was getting a little wary of me using a fake driver's license all the time for hunts. (Which I probably would continue to use anyway until I got the real thing.) And maybe I'd get my own car…

Toward the end of homeroom, the door opened and a boy walked in. No one really seemed to care or notice, except me. It was like some freaky magnetic pull—like I _had_ to look. The mystery guy took a seat in the empty desk diagonal from the one I was currently occupying, slightly slouching with the classic 'I'd-rather-be-somewhere-else' attitude, which I could totally understand. I gawked at him, jaw practically dropping to the floor as a startling realization hit me in the face, hard. (It was partly because he was absolutely gorgeous, I'm not gonna lie.)

This guy was the boy from my dreams. Literally and figuratively. I was one hundred percent positive. There was no mistaking those shaggy, black locks and beautiful, Caribbean Sea blue eyes. He was wearing jeans that were ripped and frayed at the bottom, an AC/DC shirt, black Vans sneakers and a jean jacket. A silver pentagram dangling from a silver chain around his neck completed the outfit. It was the same pendant I saw myself wearing in my dream. He looked every bit of the "bad boy" stereotype. I needed to meet the kid, because I wanted to find out why he was in my dreams.

I completely forgot that I had been carrying on a conversation with Kylie, who continued to ramble until she figured out that I was no longer listening. She snapped her fingers impatiently in front of my face, making me jolt back into reality.

"Earth to Alyx! Anyone home?"

"Uh…" I answered, still dumbstruck.

"Did you even hear a word of what I was saying?"

"Umm…no." I said, stealing another glance at Dream Guy. Kylie must've followed my line of vision because when looked back at her she was rolling her eyes at me.

"Of course," she sighed, keeping her voice low. "A guy. The only thing that could possibly distract you."

"Mmm-hmm." I mumbled dreamily, not paying attention again.

"Okay, I get it. You like him. But please, save the daydreaming for later. You don't even know the kid's name."

"Oh, I will. Trust me." I stated.

"Wanna bet?" Kylie taunted, with a mischievous smirk.

"Sure, I got nothing to lose." I replied confidently. Winchesters never lose a bet. Never. Period.

"Ten bucks—if you get his name by the end of the school day."

"Deal." I said, as we shook on it. The bell rang for first period moments later, and Kylie and I parted ways. I was a girl on a mission, and I wasn't about to put my family's name to shame.

I had American History first period, which consisted of listening to the teacher ramble for forty minutes and taking notes until my hand was severely cramped. Not fun. Second period was Latin, my most favorite class of the entire day, for obvious reasons. I was the only junior in my level four Latin class, which kinda sucked. I walked in, gave a small wave to my uncle, and scanned the room for a place to sit. It was always awkward since I didn't know anyone, so I tried to sit by myself most of the time. However, today was different. Lo and behold, Dream Guy himself was seated in the back, with an empty desk _conveniently_ next to his. It was my lucky day, apparently.

I plopped myself down into the desk without so much as a glance to Dream Guy. I pulled out my binder, book, and homework, and waited for the late bell to ring. There was some awkward silence; I was contemplating something to say to start up an intelligent conversation while picking at my already chipped, black nail polish.

"You're in my homeroom, aren't you?" Dream Guy asked. I looked at him, surprised that he had spoken first. I made a quick mental note not to make a fool out of myself by stuttering or something stupid like that before I replied.

"Yeah. And you're the new student, right?" I asked. Of course, I knew that already, but whatever.

"Yep. Just transferred here."

"That's cool," I said, offering a smile. "I'm Alyxandria, by the way. Most people call me Alyx."

"Oliver," he answered, flashing an award-winning grin, revealing very cute dimples in his cheeks. "Oliver Devereaux." Score! That ten bucks was _so_ mine! Told ya Winchesters _never_ lose a bet. "So, how long have you been learning Latin?" he asked. I thought for a moment.

"About…ten years." He gave me a look of pure shock, like he thought I wasn't serious. Which I was. Sammy started tutoring me in Latin at age six.

"I've only been learning for six years." He replied. Now it was my turn to act surprised. Who in their right mind would study Latin for that long if they didn't actually need it? Of course, I needed it, but Oliver on the other hand—I don't know. My first suspicion immediately was that he was a hunter, but obviously, I couldn't ask him at that point in time. However, if he was a fellow hunter, why would he hurt me, like in my dream? Besides, if he wasn't, that would make me look like a complete idiot, and that was the last thing I needed to do in front of him. And, there was that important Winchester rule to _never_ tell anyone about our job unless it was absolutely necessary.

Sammy went around and checked to see if everyone did last night's homework, and then we went over it. Afterward, he let us have the rest of the period to do whatever we wanted. In Latin class, we never really did anything on Fridays, which was one of the reasons why my uncle was the coolest teacher ever. The free time gave Oliver and I a chance to talk.

"You should come to the Halloween Dance tonight," I suggested to him. "It's a lot of fun, and it would be a good way to make some new friends."

"I'm not exactly a dance person, but I'll consider it," he said as the bell rang. "See ya, Alyx." He called, leaving the room. I stood there grinning like a fool.

I picked up my stuff and dropped it onto the floor next to a desk in the front. I had a study hall third period, but I always spent it in the Latin room since Sammy didn't have a class.

"I saw that, you know." He said, getting up from his desk and taking a seat on top of one of the student desks near mine.

"Saw what?"

"That boy you were talking to…" he replied. "The new kid."

"Whatever. So, I like him. Big deal. Don't get all overprotective on me, Sammy." He laughed at this.

"That's your dad's job when it comes to guys," he answered. "However, I will kick the guy's ass if he tries anything."

"I don't think you have to worry about Oliver," I reassured my uncle. "He seems nice." For now, at least…

"Just be careful." He advised. Did he know something about Oliver that I didn't?

At the end of the day, I practically sprinted to my locker. I couldn't wait to collect my winnings, even if it was only ten dollars. I wanted to shove it in Kylie's face and have the bragging rights I deserved. Kylie was already waiting by her locker.

"And?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest skeptically.

"His name is Oliver Devereaux," I said smugly. "All right, Baker, pay up." I held out my hand to receive the money. Rolling her eyes, she pulled a ten from her wallet and handed it over reluctantly. She wouldn't bet against me again, that was for sure.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a half-hour before the dance, and Kylie and I were getting ourselves ready. The two of us were standing in front of my mirror, putting on makeup with Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" cranked up full blast. Kylie was wearing a black miniskirt, an orange and black spaghetti-strap tanktop, and black combat boots. Her blonde hair now had blood red tips, courtesy of temporary color hairspray from the local Halloween store. Lots of people did that sort of thing for the dance; some even wore capes, made themselves look dead, or wore plastic vampire teeth, like Kylie was going to do.

I, on the other hand, was wearing black cargo pants, an orange tanktop under a black jean jacket, and orange Converse sneakers. I had also put in the red hairspray, but I did mine in streaks. I was applying my makeup heavily, with lots of dark eye shadow and eyeliner. I turned to Kylie.

"Does this look okay?" I said, gesturing to my face.

"It looks fine, if you're going for the whole 'walking dead' look," she said. "It might scare off your boyfriend, though." I hadn't thought of that.

"He's _not_ my boyfriend." I shot back, attempting to wipe off some of the harsh makeup with a Kleenex, which wasn't working all that well.

"_Yet_." Kylie giggled. I glared at her.

"Will you stop? He's probably not even single." I replied. For someone that good looking, he probably had a girlfriend back in…wherever it was that he was from. I tried to mentally remind myself not to fall in love with the boy, since you know, he apparently ends kicking the crap out of me at some point in time.

Kylie popped in her fake vampire fangs and made an angry scowl, trying not to laugh.

"Scary?" she asked.

"Oh, _yeah_," I answered sarcastically. "Almost as frightening as the real thing."

"Be careful, girls. Don't go off with strange guys, no drugs, alcohol…you know the drill." Dad instructed as we hopped out of the Impala.

"Yes, sir." We replied.

"Okay. Have fun. See ya at ten-thirty." He said, before Kylie slammed the back door shut. The Impala sped off down the road, and the two of us went into the school. We paid for tickets, and entered the gym. The gym was absolutely packed with students, most of them moving (in some cases quite inappropriately) to the loud music blasting through the speakers. I could feel the vibration in my chest; it was like being at a rock concert. Strobe lights flashed on the ceiling and swept over the crowd, and black lights were set up at random spots. Fog machines positioned at the corners of the gym went off every so often, creating a thick mist over the floor that rose up to cover the mob of teens. It gave the large room an eerie appearance.

Kylie and I instantly dashed over to the huge sort of mosh pit that had formed in front of where the DJ was set up, and started dancing and jumping up and down, screaming the lyrics to the songs we knew. It was a totally crazy atmosphere, and we always made sure to take some wild pictures to commemorate the experience every year.

The DJ decided to slow things down halfway through the dance, just for a couple of songs. Kylie and I took a seat on the sidelines, watching as the other couples slow-danced together. I kinda hoped Oliver would come, so I could maybe dance with him once...or twice. I had been keeping my eyes peeled for him all night.

As if on cue, though, he appeared, and glanced around, searching for someone. And I knew that someone was me. He caught my gaze and walked over, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

"Hey, Alyx."

"Hey," I replied, standing up, suddenly happy as ever. "You decided to come after all."

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, staring down at the floor for a moment. "So, would you…like to dance with me?" I grinned. Would I ever…

"Of course." I answered. I followed him out onto the floor, as another slow song started up. He placed his hands gently on my waist and I put my arms around his neck.

"I'm not much of a dancer, just to warn you." He confessed, giving me a smile that made me turn a deep shade of pink. Luckily, it was dark, so he didn't notice.

"That's okay. As long as we don't crush each other's feet I think we're good," I stated with a laugh. "So, where did you transfer from?"

"New York City."

"And of all places, you picked Kansas? May I ask why?"

"Believe me, it wasn't my first choice. My mom and I needed a fresh start, and we have a family friend here."

"That's understandable. Just you and your mom, then?" I asked.

"Yep," he answered. "She's raised me by herself since I was a baby." Well, I guess we had something else in common, besides our Latin fluency…

"I know how that is. It's just me, my dad and my uncle. They've raised me since I was a baby, too." I stated. We held each other's gaze for a minute, his piercing blue searching my startling green. He averted his stare, looking down at the floor.

"I'm sorry, Alyx," he said, glancing back up at me. His eyes were filled with what I perceived as shock. "I can't…I have to go."

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Oliver?" Without another word, he started making his way out of the packed gym. I immediately went after him, trying to keep an eye out for where he was headed, pushing people out of my way. I ignored the dirty looks I was receiving, and scrambled out of the building. When I got to the front steps, he was gone. Completely gone—nowhere to be seen. I scanned the front lawn, the chilly wind blowing my hair off my face. I shivered, pulling my jean jacket closer to my body. Someone suddenly placed a hand on my shoulder, making me jump. I spun around to see Kylie.

"A little jumpy, are we?" she laughed.

"You scared me."

"Sorry. What are you doing out here, anyway? You and your boyfriend disappeared so I got worried and came looking for you."

"Thanks for your concern."

"What happened to him?"

"I don't really know." I said honestly.

"What do you mean?" Kylie asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"He just…kinda…left…"

"Did you scare him away or did he ditch you?" she asked, laughing. I rolled my eyes. "I told you looking like a zombie wasn't a smart idea."

"Shut up." I said, smacking Kylie in the arm. She gave me little shove back.

"C'mon, we still have a half hour left…let's make the most of it, okay?" she suggested. I nodded, and followed her inside, taking one brief glance back.

The next morning, the two of us woke up to the wonderful scent of breakfast and the sounds of Metallica playing in the kitchen, which obviously meant that Dad was up; he was the only one besides me who listened to that stuff. Kylie attempted to sit up, rubbing the sleep from her icy blue eyes. I yawned and stretched, still halfway in my sleeping bag. The living room was an absolute disaster zone; the result of an almost all-nighter. There were pillows, blankets, DVDs—mostly horror flicks—and random assortments of junk food strewn about. We hadn't gone to bed until six in the morning, and it was now close to ten. I groaned and sat up, stretching my tired muscles again.

"Did you have a good four hours of sleep?" I asked Kylie.

"Yeah," she said, yawning, "Happy Birthday, _chica_." She gave me a tight hug.

"Thanks."

"Now, c'mon, let's go see what's cooking." Kylie suggested, pulling me to my feet. We shuffled down the hall to the kitchen, where Dad was standing by the stove; frying up bacon and humming to the song that was playing. There were piles of breakfast food on the table—eggs, toast, sausage, chocolate chip pancakes, and waffles. I was thoroughly stunned. There was no way he could've made it all by himself. I cleared my throat to acknowledge our presence.

"Mornin' ladies," he said in an oddly chipper tone of voice. We glanced at each other, then hesitantly took a seat at the table. I swear, if he had been wearing an apron, oven mitts or a chef's hat, I would've been: a.) Extremely embarrassed b.) Rolling on the floor laughing my ass off or c.) Reaching for the holy water, a rosary, and Grandpa's journal, contemplating the possibility that he was possessed. "Happy Birthday, Alyx."

"I can't believe you cooked. You _never_ cook."

"It's one of my many hidden talents."

"Well, you should use this so-called 'hidden talent' more often." I stated, as he joined us at the table, setting the plate of bacon down in the center. Our meals usually consisted of something that came from a box, could be made in the microwave, or ordered from a restaurant. We began piling food onto our plates as Sam walked into the kitchen.

"Wow." He said, surprised. He sat down with us also, grabbing a plate from the cupboard.

"Morning, Sammy."

"Morning, Alyx, Kylie. Happy Birthday, Ally," he replied, filling his plate with food. "How does it feel to be sixteen?"

"I don't know…I don't feel any different. Nothing's really changed."

At around one o'clock in the afternoon, my surrogate aunt/motherly figure, Missouri Moseley, came over for the birthday festivities. I was extremely close to Missouri, since she had also helped to raise me. Before I could go on hunts with my dad and uncle, I spent weekends at her house, so she played an important role in my life. These days, I visited her frequently to talk and get advice on things.

"I can't believe you're sixteen, Alyxandria," Missouri said, smiling, as we sat in the living room, finishing up cake and ice cream. "It seems like just yesterday I was changing your diapers and bribing you with chocolate chip cookies." Missouri's homemade chocolate chip cookies had always been my weakness for as long as I could remember. I used to throw tantrums when Dad and Sam left to go on a hunt. I would hook my little arms around my dad's legs and I wouldn't let go. Missouri would have to rip me off him and bribe me with something. I think she should be named a saint for putting up with my troublemaking self for all these years.

"Can you open my present now?" Kylie wanted to know, disrupting my trip down memory lane. She was bouncing up and down like a kindergartner on a major sugar high. I nodded. Kylie handed me a large, rectangular box wrapped in Halloween wrapping paper. I tore off the paper to reveal my very own Ouija board.

"Cool!" I exclaimed. It was my turn to act like a little kid. "I've always wanted one of these…"

"I thought it was cool, too. I know it's just a toy, but it's worth a try."

"Those things actually work, ya know." Sammy told us, throwing this weird glance at my dad. Then, I remembered the whole ordeal where my dad almost died before I was born and there was a Reaper after him—for the second time, I might add—and Sam communicated with him through an Ouija board, since his spirit wasn't attached to his body or something.

I thanked Kylie for the gift, and Sam gave me a couple of books tied up in orange and black ribbon, explaining that his wrapping skills were not the best. The books were obviously on different supernatural topics, like Urban Legends and stuff. Missouri gave me a new outfit, consisting of a pair of jeans and a rock T-shirt, which was probably the only normal thing I was going to get…not that I minded.

"Okay, my turn," Dad announced, getting to his feet. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up, also. "Close your eyes, Alyx." I hesitantly did so, as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. He began to lead me somewhere; I got really confused when the temperature suddenly changed, but didn't ask questions. "All right…open 'em." I slowly opened my eyes and nearly fainted from shock. Right there, in the garage, was a midnight blue Impala—a '67 like Dad's. It was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen. It was so shiny I could see my reflection in it. It was absolutely perfect. I immediately pounced on my father, giving him the tightest hug I could manage.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I shouted. I let go of him, and approached the car—_my_ car—running a hand over its polished exterior. "Can I take it for a drive?" Dad smirked and tossed the keys over to me. I unlocked the car, and hopped into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut. The loud roar of the engine instantly brought a smile to my face. I motioned for Kylie to get in, and she climbed into the passenger's side. Next thing I knew, we were halfway down the road with the stereo turned up. I think my dad might've been shouting at me to be careful, but I couldn't exactly hear him because the music was too loud.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own Supernatural. I only wish I did… A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed! Your feedback is very much appreciated!

During the following school week, I made every attempt to speak to Oliver, but unfortunately, I wasn't very successful. It seemed like he was trying to avoid and ignore me at all costs. Which was really annoying, considering I had to figure out what had happened at the dance and why he was continuing to make appearances in my dreams. Second period Latin was as awkward as ever. I was sitting right _next_ to him and he didn't have any intention of talking to me.

Finally, on Wednesday, I caught up to him before going down to the cafeteria for lunch. He was digging around in his locker for his things for his afternoon classes, since he also had the same lunch period as I did.

"Oliver." I said, approaching his locker.

No answer.

_Perfect_…he was going to continue to ignore my existence even when I was standing not even a foot away. And to think I was almost his girlfriend…well, not really, but I can dream, can't I?

"Oliver, please," I tired again, "Please, just give me a few minutes. I want to talk." He sighed, stopped whatever he was doing, and turned to face me. He looked slightly annoyed.

"What is it, Alyx?" he asked.

"I…want to know what's up with you. Why do you keep ignoring me? I was worried about you, I mean, the way you took off at the dance…I thought something was wrong."

"You didn't tell me that your last name is Winchester." He stated.

"I didn't think it was all that important." I replied, a bit puzzled.

"Well, it is," he said. "Look, it's best that we don't get involved in anything together. Trust me." He slung his backpack over one shoulder and slammed his locker door closed. "You don't need to get mixed up in my issues. You have enough of your own to worry about." With that, he walked off, leaving me stunned. I knew he was definitely hiding something. I got the distinct impression that that something held the answers to what was going on in these dreams of mine.

The last period of the day I had gym, where we were playing my all-time favorite sport, floor hockey. Floor hockey got extremely competitive, especially since the school was co-ed, which required the girls and the boys to play together. However, the boys weren't always the problem. Sometimes, the girls got aggressive and a catfight went down. And today, I got caught in the middle of one. As if my day couldn't get any worse, right?

It started when this chick that I really despised—her name was Brittany—received the puck from another person on her team. I was on the opposite team, so I ran over and tried to get the puck away from her. I actually succeeded, and began to make my way toward the goal, hoping to score a point. Brittany suddenly came at me and shoved me to the floor; an obvious penalty. The teacher quickly blew the whistle as I was getting to my feet.

"What the hell was that for?" I asked, ticked off. Brittany didn't answer; she only gave me this nasty sort of glare/evil smirk. The two of us did not, by any means, coexist peacefully in the school. She was forever calling me names and spreading rumors. I tried to ignore her most of the time, but it's kind of hard when you're walking through the hallways and everyone's staring and/or pointing at you and whispering. These rumors are the reason Kylie is my only close friend, since she knew me the better than anyone else and she knows none of those things are true.

Brittany and I were a mere foot away from each other now. All I had to do was deck her one and she'd be sorry…

"What are you looking at, freak?" she asked, giving me another shove. I couldn't just stand there and not do anything, especially when the girl was thinking about starting a fight, with _me_ of all people. I don't think she even knew how to throw a decent punch. So, I shoved her back. She went to throw a wimpy punch, but I dodged it easily. I was now glaring daggers at her, wanting so much to break her nose or something so she wouldn't bother me ever again. Then, out of nowhere, her nose started to bleed. She must've felt pain, because she put both of her hands to her nose and winced. "What did you do to me?" she asked, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to stop the steady blood flow.

"I…I didn't do anything." I said. And it was the truth. Brittany gawked at me like I was insane, and so did everyone else crowding around the two of us. They had all seen that I hadn't taken a swing at her. I didn't know what had happened. I couldn't have possibly done that to her…could I?

"Ladies," the gym teacher said, standing in between us. "Break it up. C'mon now. Stop." He saw Brittany's bloody nose and looked over at me. "Miss Winchester, you're disqualified from the game. Miss Rockland, go to the nurse."

"What? I didn't do that—"

"_Of course_ you didn't," he mocked. "It just _happened _to appear out of thin air, then?" A few of the other students laughed; I felt like a total dork. Without a word, I trudged over to the bleachers and sat down. Now, the story would spread through the school like wildfire and my social status—or lack thereof—would be completely ruined.

However, I wasn't worried about my rep at that point. I was more concerned about how Brittany had suffered that injury. It _had_ come out of thin air. Last time I checked, random wounds appearing out of nowhere didn't exactly qualify as normal. The bigger question was, did _I _cause it? Since it was ninth period anyway, I grabbed my stuff and left the class, not caring if I'd get detention for skipping. I knew Sam wasn't teaching a class that period, so I went up to his classroom. I was freaked out, and I needed to tell someone. It was one of those times I was glad to have a family member working at my school.

I entered the classroom, shutting the door behind me. Sammy was at his desk, surfing the net; one of the things he was awesome at, especially when it came to doing research for a hunt. I ditched my stuff onto the floor, and he looked up, noticing my panicked expression.

"Hey, Ally. What's up?" he asked, as I paced back and forth in front of his desk.

"I…I don't know," I said, pausing. "I think something's seriously wrong with me, Sam." This caused him to stand up, and approach me. I sat down on top of a desk and he stood across from me, leaning against his desk.

"What is it?" he asked. "Something that involves our area of business?" I nodded, and proceeded to explain the floor hockey fight to him, while trying to calm myself down a bit. "And you think you did it to her?" he asked when I finished.

"Well, yeah. I was thinking about breaking her nose and her nose just…kinda…I don't know. Don't _you_ think it's weird?"

"Yeah, I guess," he answered. "Has something like this happened to you before?"

"No," I replied. "What if it's something like your ability? I mean, who knows? My mom died like yours."

"Maybe," Sam considered the idea for a moment. "Have you been having any strange dreams lately? Ones that involve the Demon?"

"No," I lied. I knew about the whole people-with-abilities-turning-evil thing, and I think that was why he was so concerned. Telling him about my dreams would mean telling him about Oliver, and I wanted to solve that issue on my own. "What do you think is going on?"

"Honestly, Alyx, I'm not sure. But I'm definitely going to talk to Dean about it, and maybe we should tell Missouri, too," he said. I let out a frustrated groan. "We'll figure this out. Don't worry."

"How was school?" Dad asked when Sam and I got in the house. He had driven me and Kylie home because it had started to rain when we were about to leave. I gave my uncle a glance, dumping my bag into the front hall.

"_Great_." I said. My dad didn't pick up on the sarcasm, though. I began to retreat to the kitchen when he called my name.

"Alyx," he said. "You mind sharpening the hunting knives for me? We might have a hunting gig this weekend."

"All right." I answered, even though I really didn't want to do it. However, I knew that when Dean Winchester gave you and order, 'no' was not an option. I went out to his Impala and opened the trunk, gathering up the duffel bag containing the knives. I went back into the kitchen, and started sharpening them, hoping that Sam hadn't told my father about what had occurred at school.

Unfortunately, I wasn't paying much attention to what I was doing at one point since I was too distracted by my thoughts. The knife I was sharpening somehow slipped and sliced my palm. It started to bleed instantly, and it stung quite a bit. I groaned, and got up from the table. I walked over to the sink and turned on the water to wash out the wound, but when I looked at my hand again, the cut was completely gone. I did a serious double take, then turned off the water. I inspected my palm, running a finger over where the cut _should_ have been. It was like it had never happened.

"Dad! Sam!" I called. Both Winchester men came rushing in upon hearing my distressed yells.

"What's the matter?" Dad asked. I picked up a smaller knife off the table and pressed the blade into the skin of my palm, just enough to create a shallow cut. Blood appeared seconds later, and I flinched slightly at the pain.

"Alyx, what are you—" I interrupted Sam before he could finish.

"Wait." I told them. We all stared at the fresh wound; Sam and Dad looked at me, shocked, when it began to slowly disappear a minute later. It was gone in less than two minutes. Dad grabbed my wrist and gawked at my palm, puzzled.

"How the hell…?"

"I don't know." I said.

"Dean, Alyx also said she gave some girl a bloody nose in gym, without even touching her," Sam explained to him. "It was right after she _thought_ about breaking her nose." Dad threw me this weird look.

Before I knew it, we were all in the Impala on the way to Missouri's house moments later. I could tell by the way that my dad was acting that he wasn't handling this well. But _I_ was the one going through all of this, so I should've been the one having the breakdown. I mean, I had no clue as to what was happening to me. I'm absolutely positive that this doesn't happen to other girls after they turn sixteen, so why me?

Missouri was waiting for us at the door as we pulled into her driveway. She ushered us inside, and we went into the living room. I took a seat in a large armchair, and Dad and Sam sat on the couch. Missouri sat in the other armchair on the other side of the coffee table. She sighed, and leaned over, placing a comforting hand on top of mine.

"It's all right," she reassured me. "I knew this day would come eventually."

"You knew and you didn't bother to warn me?" I asked, a little annoyed.

"Alyx, you needed to discover these abilities on your own."

"Abilities?" I groaned, unenthusiastically.

"Alyxandria, you're what we call a Healer. You're able to recover quickly from your wounds, and also cure others' injuries. It's an extremely rare and powerful gift, but it has a darker side as well. You see, in addition to healing, you can inflict wounds using your mind if you choose to do so."

"Isn't that a demonic power, though? Inflicting wounds, I mean." Sam asked, sharing a knowing glance with my dad. Missouri nodded solemnly.

"A power that, unfortunately, the yellow-eyed demon has also." She pointed out. My eyes widened at this revelation. The fact that I shared a power with something so evil was not an especially comforting thought. Did that make me just as evil as him? Missouri must've picked up on my thoughts, because she laid her hand on mine again.

"Oh, honey," she said in a motherly voice, "don't even think that. Unlike the Demon, you have the ability to choose; to use your powers for the greater good, not evil. You just have to be careful, that's all." Great. That was the cherry on the top of a perfectly good day…_not_. Now I had this to worry about? I turn sixteen and this is the 'gift' I get? This totally sucks. Life is _never_ fair when you're a Winchester…


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, sadly… But I do own Alyx, Kylie, and Oliver.**

The next Saturday, I went over to Kylie's house to spend the night. Kylie's parents were out of town on a short trip to honor their anniversary, and they wouldn't be back until dinnertime on Sunday. Kylie wasn't thrilled about the idea of being left alone for the weekend, so she invited me over to keep her company. Earlier in the day, we walked downtown to our favorite street, which was lined with a bunch of small stores where we often went shopping. After checking out a few clothing stores and a music store, we headed over to a coffee shop.

When we got back to Kylie's house, we did normal things that were expected of teenagers when parents weren't around. We cranked up the radio and screamed the lyrics to our favorite songs throughout the entire house, raided the fridge for food, and basically made a mess of the place. At one o'clock, we attempted to prank phone call Dad and Sam. They didn't answer (which totally ruined it), so we left a message that included some classic horror movie lines in disguised voices, even though we knew they'd figure it out.

Around seven o'clock, Kylie ordered a pizza and we ate it while watching movies and gossiping about people we couldn't stand at our school. She did bring up the story about the 'fight' between Brittany and I, asking if it was true. I, of course, denied it, not wanting to tell her about my newly discovered abilities. I wasn't too fond of them just yet.

She did bring up Oliver, briefly. She advised me to move on and forget about him. Easier said than done. How could I when he was constantly on my mind? I mean, I don't understand why someone so cute could end up beating me into a bloody pulp. Oliver seemed like a sweet guy (despite his odd behavior lately); so what would make him turn like that?

"Can we try out your Ouija board?" Kylie asked, disrupting my thoughts. I nodded and dug through my bag, pulling out the rectangular box. I lifted the top off the box and spread the board onto the hardwood floor in the living room where we were sitting. I set the pointer in the middle.

"You have to keep an open mind at all times, or it won't work at all," I instructed. "I don't think that's a real problem here, but just clear your mind. We don't want to summon an angry or violent spirit." Both of us placed two fingers on the pointer.

"All right. If there's a spirit that would like to communicate with us, please do so." Kylie said aloud. The pointer began to move; Kylie and I stared at each other out of surprise. We watched as it slid across the board, stopping at the letter B, then the letter E. It continued to move, stopping at W next, then an A, R, and finally, another E.

BEWARE.

"Ha, ha. _Very_ funny. Damn spirit is trying to freak us out." Kylie said.

"Beware of what?" I asked. The pointer began to spell out more words, but not a full sentence.

FIRE was next.

The pointer then spelled out another word, DEATH.

"Okay, this is a little too creepy..." Kylie shuddered.

"Can you tell us your name?" I asked. The pointer formed a four-letter name.

JOHN

I immediately paused. The spirit's name was John, which also happened to be the name of my grandpa. Could it actually be him?

"Are…Are you John Winchester?" I waited a tense moment for a reply. The pointer hit YES, and I nearly fainted. My Grandpa's spirit was in the room with us. Odd way of meeting him, don't ya think?

"Alyx, are we talking to a relative of yours?" Kylie asked.

"My grandpa," I smiled. "Grandpa John, can you try to give me more details? What exactly are you warning us about?" We watched as the pointer spelled out a word.

DEMON

YELLOW EYES followed.

"What's he talking about?" Kylie asked. I forgot we hadn't mentioned the demon thing to her when we were explaining the family business. I didn't have time to explain now. Instead, I ignored her and asked another question.

"Is the Demon close?" The pointer hit YES. "How close?" I was kind of afraid of his next answer.

TONIGHT

My heart practically skipped a beat. The Demon was going to strike tonight. I didn't want to ask whom he was going to go after. I already had a bad theory.

"Thank you, Grandpa John. You can go now if you want," I told him. "Bye." The pointer moved again. BE CAREFUL he said.

"Well, that was weird," Kylie said, pulling her fingers from the pointer rather quickly. She started to put the Ouija board away. "Let's watch a movie and forget about it, shall we?" Kylie was obviously a little spooked by our encounter. But she didn't even know the half of it.

"You don't understand," I said. "This is…really, _really_ bad." I ran a hand through my hair nervously and stood up. I went to the window, and pulled back the curtain, to see that it was pouring rain outside and extremely windy. There was no way that we were walking a mile in that. I grabbed the house phone and put it to my ear, only to discover that it was dead.

I dug my cell phone out of my pocket. My battery was dead, and I didn't have the charger with me. _Today_ of all freaking days. Kylie's cell phone, I knew, had run out of minutes yesterday. So, at that point, we were totally screwed.

"Alyx, _what_ is going on?" My best friend asked, hands on her hips.

"Uh…I don't have time to explain." I answered, pacing back and forth, trying to come up with a plan. I knew how to repel regular demons, but according to my dad and uncle, the usual tricks didn't work on the yellow-eyed demon. I had to do _something_, though.

I went into the kitchen, and began to go through every possible cupboard, searching for salt. I found two large containers of it and hoped it would be enough. I handed one over to Kylie, who was kind of pissed and confused at the same time.

"Take this and put the salt in front of all the windows and doors in the house." I instructed. Kylie gave me this dirty look, then left to go do what she was told. While Kylie was covering downstairs, I went upstairs. Luckily, we had just enough salt to take care of the entire house. When I got back downstairs, Kylie was sitting on the couch with her arms folded across her chest.

"Alyxandria, I would like it very much if you would please explain to me what the _hell_ is going on." she said firmly.

"Umm…well, there's this demon—"

"A _demon_?" she asked, with a laugh.

"I thought you weren't a skeptic." I stated, arching an eyebrow.

"I'm not, usually. I mean, I believe in ghosts and all that, but a demon…I don't know…"

"Okay, well, just trust me on this one," I said. "There's a demon coming after us tonight." I didn't want to scare her even more by saying that I thought it was coming to kill her…"Well, that's _great_," Kylie replied. "Couldn't we get your dad and uncle?"

"We have no way of reaching them."

"We're screwed, aren't we?" Kylie asked, as if reading my mind.

"Basically." Kylie's face turned as white as a sheet; an expression of pure terror plastered on her features. The seriousness of the situation had finally hit her. She started to crack her knuckles—a nervous habit of hers that drove me nuts.

"What are we going to do now?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said, realizing that Kylie was fully depending on me to get us out of this mess. I was the one with all of the knowledge, but this time I had no clue as to what I was up against. Dad and Sammy had told me about the yellow-eyed demon, of course, but never actually confronted it or anything. I hadn't exactly planned to…until now, that is. I didn't really have a choice this time. "I don't know." I repeated. Some freaking hunter I am.

"You don't _know_?" Kylie asked, irritated. "One of us is just going to bite the dust then? Is that it?"

"No!" I yelled back, wishing she wouldn't be so panicky. She was beginning to make _me _nervous, and that was the last thing I needed. "No one is dying tonight." It was Kylie that I was worried about, though, since I was the one with the healing abilities and whatnot. Technically, that meant that I couldn't die…I think.

So, the two of us waited in the center of the living room for whatever doom was going to come. Kylie had created a barricade of pillows, blankets, and even a few pieces of furniture around us. It was her idea, not mine. I told her it wouldn't do any good, but she wouldn't listen. She was currently buried in a blanket, clutching the biggest, sharpest kitchen knife that she could find, glancing at her watch every two minutes. I had also informed her that the knife wouldn't be a sufficient defense against a demon, but what do_ I_ know anyway? I'm just a hunter.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Eleven-thirty." Kylie responded miserably, trying to stifle a yawn, and failing.

"Get some sleep," I suggested, "I'll stay awake and get you up if anything happens."

"Nah," she said. "I wouldn't be able to sleep even if I tried." There was a short period of silence before she spoke again. "Hey, Alyx?"

"Yeah?"

"If we get out of this alive, I swear I won't touch your Pop Tarts ever again."

I couldn't help but laugh.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, and unfortunately, I never will…**

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing the story!!! I promise you'll find out what's up with Oliver in the upcoming chapters…**

It was a quarter to three in the morning when the two of us got to the point of extreme boredom. We had gone through a few games of 'I Spy', and believe me, there's only so much you can handle of that stupid game when you're confined to one room. After 'I Spy', we played 'Truth or Dare', minus the dare part because we obviously didn't want to move. Soon, the wind picked up severely, howling against the house. The lights began to flicker.

Kylie's knuckles turned white as her grip on the knife strengthened. I could hear my heart thudding against my chest. Our eyes darted around the room, as the lights flickered again, then went off altogether. Kylie let out a small scream.

"We're going to die…we're going to die…" she whispered under her breath, rocking back and forth with her arms wrapped around her knees. For such a perky person, she was so pessimistic. I don't get it.

"Don't say that," I ordered. "I'm going to get some candles. I'll be—"

"Don't leave me alone in here, Alyx…please…don't leave." She pleaded, grabbing my arm as I stood up to climb over the makeshift barrier. In the dim light, I could see tears rolling down her face.

"Come with me, then." I told her. She nodded and followed me out of the living room to the kitchen, holding onto the hood of my sweatshirt for dear life. We found a couple of candles, and a book of matches. I went to light them when there was a loud crash in the living room. Ignoring the candles, we rushed back to investigate. All of the furniture and other objects Kylie had used for our barricade had been knocked over; thrown across the floor. The knife was sticking out of the hardwood floor, in the middle of the room. No one could've done that in a matter of a minute—no one _human_, that is.

"Oh. My. God," Kylie yelled, clapping her hand to her mouth. I felt her trembling beside me. "It's in the house…it's in the house and it's going to kill us…" I was going to tell her to shut up, but the next thing I knew, she was thrown violently into a wall and stayed pinned there by an invisible force. She was instantly in hysterics. "Alyx, help!" I made a run toward her, but I was sent flying across the room as well, and was pinned to the wall opposite Kylie. I struggled against the unseen force, with no luck. The pressure it was holding on me was so great it sort of hurt; I could barely lift my hand from the wall.

A cloud of black smoke appeared in the center of the room, and molded into a man. It was merely a tall, black, figure of a man without any distinct features, except maybe for those penetrating, _yellow_ eyes. He casually walked over to Kylie, who was sobbing. I, however, had to keep myself together for as long as possible, for my friend's sake. He simply stared at her, and a moment later a spot of crimson liquid began to grow over her midsection. She screamed in pain, staring down at the fresh wound out of shock.

"Kylie!" I shouted. "Let go of her!" I commanded the Demon. But, of course, all-powerful demons don't exactly listen to sixteen-year-old girls. He turned around sharply and strolled toward me, his creepy, yellow eyes glowing in the dark. I had a bad feeling that he was going to inflict some type of bodily harm on me, too. He paused to pull the knife out of the floor, only to toss it aside.

"Miss Winchester," he said in this freaky, raspy voice, "long time, no see, huh?" He came closer. "My, you've grown up into a beautiful young woman. It's been, what? Sixteen years now until I last saw you? How time flies…" There was this sick, sarcastic tone to his voice, and I was really tempted to say some smartass comment back, but I've been told that it's not good to piss off a demon. Especially this one. You get on _his_ bad side, and you're a goner. I ignored his comments and looked over at Kylie, who was in a great deal of pain, pleading with her eyes for me to do something.

"_Let her go_," I repeated, on the verge of tears myself. "Don't drag her into this. It's me you want, not her."

"See," he began, "that's where you're wrong. I don't want to kill you. You're going to be of great use to me—you and your uncle." I was aware of his so-called 'plans' for people like us; people with special abilities. We were supposed to be his 'soldiers' in some kind of supernatural war. "Your little friend is in the way, and I can't have that, now can we?" Kylie winced. Tears were flowing freely down my face now, and I didn't care. And let me tell you, I hate crying. But this time, I couldn't help it. The only friend that completely understood me was being ripped away, and I felt useless. I had to help her; it was my job as hunter. It hurt me that I couldn't do anything.

"_Please_…" I begged, my voice cracking and barely audible. I was a wreck; my mind had come to the point where it was incapable of forming words. I was still trying to comprehend what was going on. "Stop…"

"Alyx!" Kylie screeched. Her cries apparently annoyed the Demon because with one flick of his wrist, she started sliding up the wall toward the ceiling. "Alyxandria! Don't let it kill me…I don't wanna die…" That statement only made me cry harder.

"You must understand," he continued with his lecture, "this has to happen. It's the only way you can become what you were born to be." I was confused. How was he trying to justify the murder of my best friend? And what was with this destiny crap? He couldn't get it through his dense head that I wasn't going to follow his plans. "You know what I'm talking about, Alyx. It felt good to use that power, didn't it? To cause someone pain, to get revenge…to make them suffer for hurting you…"

"_No_," I replied sternly. "I'm not like you." At this, he just laughed.

"Oh, but you will be," he replied. "Once I get inside that head of yours, there will be no turning back. You're _mine_."

He focused his concentration on Kylie once more, and pinned her to the ceiling as she shouted my name. In a split second, the Demon vanished. I was released from the constricting hold he had placed on me, and fell to the floor. There, I lay on my side, propping myself up halfway with my arms. I watched, mortified, as a raging fire erupted on the ceiling, instantly engulfing Kylie in the flames. I let out a sob and slammed my fist into the floor out of anger. I was furious; all that Demon had done to my family was make us miserable by taking away the ones we cared about, and it wasn't fair. That Demon was going to pay. Big time.

"Alyx?" a familiar voice called over the roaring fire. "Alyxandria?" It was my dad. I didn't know how he had gotten here, but that didn't matter. He was at my rescue, once again.

"Dad!" I yelled back, to let him know I was safe. He followed the sound of my voice, and without a word, he scooped me into his arms and carried me out of the burning house quickly. Emergency response crews were already surrounding the place. Firemen were battling the flames, which were beginning to die down. Sammy was waiting for us on the sidewalk, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans and a solemn expression on his face. I stared back at the house, and then I just totally broke down, crying. "She's gone…" I wept, clinging onto the front of my dad's shirt. "It took her…the Demon…" He set me gently on top of the Impala's hood, and sat there, rubbing my back, trying to calm me down while Sam stood in a daze, staring at the house.

An EMT had to physically pry me from my dad to check me over to make sure I wasn't hurt. Which I wasn't, of course. Even if I had been, the injuries would've disappeared before they examined me. After that, a police officer came over and told me I had to go to the station to be questioned because I was a witness to the murder. So, at five o' clock in the morning, I was waiting in a police station to be interrogated, an hour and a half after I suffered through a traumatic ordeal. I hate authority figures. I was in an _extremely_ crappy mood at that point.

It wasn't until five-thirty that I was called in to be questioned; while I was waiting I had come up with a story, since the detective or whoever was interrogating me would _never_ believe what I saw. The detective was a larger man with gray hair and a bushy mustache. Given his intimidating appearance, he was a very kind and compassionate man. He let Dad and Sam come into the room with me, which I was thankful for. (Just in case I needed some help with lies.)

"Hello, Alyxandria, I'm Detective Hayes," the man said, shaking my hand before taking a seat on the other side of the steel table. (The room was exactly like the ones in the cop dramas and CSI shows. Ya know, with the large metal table, and the unbelievably bright lamp that just beats down on the person being interrogated.) "I know you've been through a lot tonight, but it's important that we get information from you—since you're an eye witness—so we can catch the killer who did this." _Right_. Try and catch him…I dare you. I think Sam and Dad had similar thoughts. "So, Alyxandria, you were good friends with Kylie Baker, correct?"

"Yes."

"Do you know of any enemies that she could've had that were maybe responsible for this violent act?"

"No." She didn't have enemies, I did.

"What were you doing earlier tonight?"

"I was sleeping over Kylie's. We were watching a few movies…just hanging out."

"Did you see or hear anyone break in?"

"No," I answered. "The power went out, so I went to go get some candles—"

"What happened after that?"

"Well, Kylie stayed in the other room, and when I came back, he was there…holding a knife to her throat." I lied.

"What did the killer look like?"

"I don't know…it was dark…I couldn't really see…" Crap. I didn't know what to say now. I hoped he went along with it. It _sounded_ believable. Well, to me at least. "And he was wearing all black…so…"

"All right. Did he start the fire after she was killed?"

"Yes."

"Well, I think that's about it. Thank you for your time, Alyxandria. I'm very sorry for your loss."

As we were leaving the interrogation room, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Baker talking to an officer. The authorities had called Kylie's parents after I gave them the information on where they were staying. They told them to come to the police station ASAP, since they were only two hours away. It broke my heart to see her parents like that. I swore that when we were walking out of the station, Mrs. Baker glared at me. Maybe she had every right to be angry with me.

A light rain fell from an overcast sky as we stood in the cemetery a few days later, gathered in a large circle around the hole in the ground where they were going to put my friend. The polished, mahogany casket that laid next to the dug-out grave was covered in an arrangement of white lilies and pink roses. I was standing among Kylie's relatives, teachers from school, and other students who had come to say their goodbyes. Everyone was shocked by her tragic death; no one could believe that someone would do something like that to an innocent, teenage girl. Everyone—including Kylie's parents—was convinced that it had been a random attack, that some insane arsonist/killer had done it. None of them could know what had really killed her. It was something only my family and I could deal with.

Kylie's parents were standing beside the priest as he said the last lines of the service. I couldn't bear to look at Mrs. Baker, whose muffled sobs filled the quiet graveyard. She wasn't even speaking to me anymore. (I tried to call to see how she was doing, but she hung up on me.) Mr. Baker had his arm around her shoulders, trying to comfort her, his glassy eyes clearly filled with pain. After the priest finished, everyone was allowed to pay his or her last respects. Mr. and Mrs. Baker went first, of course, and the rest of the congregation followed. Dad and Sam hung back, while I walked up to Kylie's casket, holding a single red rose in my shaking hand. I placed it gently on top, then stood there silently. I didn't know exactly what to do with myself. I knew that after they buried her six feet under, it'd be permanent. And that was unsettling.

"I'm sorry, Kylie," I whispered, running my hand over the casket. "I wish I could've saved you." I wiped a stray tear from my cheek. "I'll miss you, Ky."

"Tragic," an older woman with a heavy Southern accent muttered beside me. I looked over to see Kylie's psychic aunt, Genevieve, standing there, her hand placed lovingly on the casket. She had flown in from New Orleans for the funeral. "Sad…that that thing had to take her. At such a young age, too." I stared at her, curious.

"You…you _know_?"

"Of course, dear," she replied, keeping her voice low. "Something extraordinarily evil killed her…and it wasn't human, that's for damn sure." I nodded. "You saw it that night, didn't ya, child?" I nodded again. Aunt Genevieve put her hand on my shoulder. "Better watch your back, Alyxandria. It's keeping a close eye on you." She walked away. I was about to find Dad and Sam when someone I didn't expect to see at Kylie's funeral approached me.

"Hey, Alyx," Oliver said. He was nicely dressed in a black suit. "I'm sorry about your friend. What happened was horrible."

"Thanks," I replied. "I'm surprised you're even talking to me, you know. It goes against your 'stay away from me' deal."

"Just wanted to offer my condolences, that's all."

"Oliver, I don't get it," I stated. "I want to know why it has to be this way between us."

"Ask Missouri." He suggested.

"Missouri Moseley? The psychic?" I asked. He nodded.

"I told you I had a family friend here." He reminded me, with a small smirk. Before I had a chance to reply, Dad stepped in between the two of us.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Yeah…sure." Dad shot Oliver a cold look, and dragged me away by my wrist. I ask you: what was _that_ for? Seriously. Something weird was going on…Dad and Sam were definitely leaving me out of the loop.

Needless to say, the ride home from the cemetery was tense and quiet. I was in a bad mood, and I think it was obvious because neither of the Winchester men made any attempt to talk to me, or ask questions. (Although Sam kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror.) I knew it was bad to keep my emotions all bottled up inside and not speak to anyone. I had issues with that, because like my dad, I wasn't too good with the whole 'sharing feelings' thing. And, I was getting sick and tired of people asking me if I was okay. Would _you_ be okay if you saw _your_ friend die? I don't think so. It was enough to drive me crazy.

When we pulled into the driveway, I got out of the car and went inside the house. All I wanted to do was put on some sort of depressing music, crawl into bed, and hibernate for the rest of my life. I slammed my bedroom door shut, and threw the black button-up sweater I had been wearing over my dress onto the bed. That's when I noticed I wasn't the only person in the room…


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural.**

**A/N: Thanks again to the reviewers out there! Your questions will be answered _very_ soon…**

Okay, so maybe I was the only _living _person in the room.

Kylie—or her ghost, at least—was sitting on the window seat, staring out the window sadly. She had a slight glow about her, and was semi-transparent. She was wearing the same pajamas that she died in; her shirt still blood stained. I knew from the moment I saw her that this wasn't going to go well.

"K-Kylie?" I asked, hesitant. She turned and looked at me, her icy blue eyes filled with anger and sadness. Tears were trickling down her ashen face.

"Look at me, Alyx." Kylie demanded, gesturing to herself, her voice shaking. I kept my gaze to the floor.

"I tried to save you, Kylie. You know I tried." I answered quietly.

"Look at me!" she hollered, livid. "I'm dead, Alyxandria. _Dead_."

"I did everything I could…"

"But you _didn't_ save me, did you? You _knew _that…that _thing _was gonna kill me, and you let me die, Alyx." The pile of books on my dresser began to shake because of Kylie's rising temper. Since she was now a ghost, she had acquired some kinetic abilities.

"Please," I said. "Don't do this to me, Ky. Not now."

"Oh, don't _Ky _me, Winchester. And don't even try to say sorry because sorry wont cut it this time," I stared at her feet, watching as she stood up and came toward me. She pushed my chin up forcefully with her index finger, so we met eye to eye. "Can't look at me, can you? It's because you feel guilty, right? For watching me suffer and die right in front of you."

"It wasn't my fault!" I yelled firmly. "I mean, do you think I _wanted_ this to happen? This isn't easy for me, either, Kylie." Every time I closed my eyes, I re-lived that tragic night, beating myself up with the 'what ifs'.

"Alyx? What's going on in there?" Dad's voice came from the other side of the door.

"Umm…" I stammered. I was about to open it up when I heard the click of the lock, which was obviously Kylie's doing. "Open it!" I hissed at her. If she was gonna go all 'angry spirit' on me, I wasn't going to play nice. This little encounter was going downhill fast.

"No."

"Now, Kylie!" I ordered.

"_Kylie_? Alyx, who are you talkin' to in there? C'mon, open up!" Dad shouted. I heard him run away, down the stairs. I knew he'd be back. I tugged on the handle of the door, but it wasn't any use. All I could think—even though I know it wasn't a very nice thought, especially after going to Kylie's funeral—was _why didn't we salt and burn the bones?_ Kylie had died violently; her life was cut short at a young age, too, which was why she was stuck roaming around, haunting me. Blaming me for her demise.

"I…I can help you," I suggested, as she continued to step toward me, furious. "We can salt and burn your bones, so you don't have to stay like this…" She didn't say anything, but she was _mad_. Other items on my desk and dresser were shaking and falling onto the floor. I was waiting for things to come flying at me.

"Or, you can just get revenge like every other pissed off spirit." I said sarcastically.

Bad move. (Now that I think about it, I really have problems with opening up my stupid mouth at the wrong time.)

Kylie grabbed the front of my shirt and pushed me into the nearest wall. This made _me_ angry.

"Do you think this is funny?"

"Want to kill me?" I asked. "Go ahead. I_ dare _you."

Extremely horrible move.

I think Kylie was about to punch my lights out when Dad kicked open the door, breaking the lock. He was armed with a rifle full of rock salt. Kylie dropped me upon seeing this, and I fell to the floor, ducking so Dad could fire off a round of rock salt at her.

"I'm sorry." Dad said, as Sam was helping me to my feet. I never thought I'd be in this situation, where my best friend suddenly became the enemy. And a possible hunting job. This was so messed up.

"She'll come after me again." I said.

"Yeah," Dad replied. "And there's only one way to fix this."

I felt like a bad person doing this, but I knew it had to be done, or else I'd become Kylie's first victim as a vengeful spirit. Dad, Sam, and I were weaving our way through the maze of gravestones in the cemetery at about ten o'clock at night. It was cold, rainy, and foggy. I still felt like crap. Sam and I were carrying flashlights and shovels, while Dad had the bag with the salt, lighter fluid, and matches. Once we located Kylie's grave, Sam and my dad started digging. I couldn't watch. It made my stomach flip-flop thinking about it. Digging up her coffin—and the day of the funeral, no less! Dad opened the coffin, revealing nothing but her bones, which was all that remained after the fire. I almost threw up. Sam had to grab onto my shoulders to steady me because I nearly fainted. The whole salt and burn thing had been perfectly fine with me up until now. Ya know, because up until this night I didn't need to do it to my friend's bones.

"You okay?" Sam asked, still holding onto my shoulders. I shook my head, closing my eyes.

"No, not really…" I walked away from him, and started pacing around in circles, trying to compose myself as Dad poured salt and lighter fluid onto Kylie's bones. I still had my back turned to the grave, but I heard my dad strike a match. I turned back around to see the light coming from the hole in the ground, the flames flickering and crackling. "This sucks." I muttered, sighing. Dad pulled me into a half-hug, kissing the top of my head.

"I know, kiddo," he answered. "But she'll be happier this way."

**A/N: I know, kinda short, but I put in everything that needed to be there. Next chapter Alyx visits Missouri!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own** **Supernatural, just borrowing for fun.**

"Mommy, look at me!" A little girl yelled excitedly, as her father pushed her higher on the swings in the local park. She was approximately seven years old, with long, raven-black hair, startling cobalt blue eyes, and dimples in her cheeks. Her father was a tall man, who was only about twenty-seven or twenty-eight; his daughter had obviously inherited her physical traits from him.

The girl's mother, a young woman who appeared to be the same age as her husband, was helping her seven-year-old son climb across the monkey bars. The little boy had also inherited his father's black hair and dimples, but instead received his mother's beautiful, deep green eyes.

"Good job, Jade!" The mother praised, offering a smile. She helped her son get down from the monkey bars, and he scurried over to his sister. Jade hopped off the swing and ran toward a large slide.

"C'mon, Dean!" she encouraged, motioning for her twin brother to follow. She started to climb up the ladder of the slide, and Dean was immediately behind her, making sure she didn't fall. The proud parents watched their children, smiling.

"They're so cute, aren't they, Oliver?" The young woman asked. The man nodded, grinning, and placed his arm lovingly around her shoulder…

I jolted awake suddenly, and found myself lying on the couch, buried in the homework that I was trying to catch up on. It was the middle of the afternoon on a Friday. Dad had let me stay home this week, since Kylie's funeral had just been a few days ago, and I still needed time to recover from her loss. To tell you the truth, I wasn't looking forward to going back to school. I glanced over to see Dad sitting in a chair, watching some crappy daytime television show.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" I complained. "I have so much work…" I groaned, attempting to push books and binders off me.

"'Cause, I'm an awesome father," he replied. "Do want something to eat?"

"No," I answered, half-yawning. "Not hungry."

"You're still having nightmares, aren't you?" I shrugged.

"Sort of," I don't think you could count the latest dream as a nightmare, although seeing myself married to Oliver with our kids was kind of weird. I climbed off the couch and started for the door, grabbing my jean jacket and car keys. "I'm going over to Missouri's." I informed him, "Be back in a little while."It was nice to finally be able to drive myself places in my own car, instead of bugging Dad or Sam to cart me everywhere. When I parked in the driveway, Missouri was waiting for me at the door.

"Oh, Alyx, how good to see you!" she greeted warmly, as I followed her inside. Her tone of voice changed drastically, however, when she read my thoughts. "I'm so sorry about your friend, honey. She was a sweet girl, too." Missouri hadn't been able to make it to Kylie's funeral, because she was out of town visiting relatives.

We took a seat on the couch, and I was reluctantly debating with myself. I had come here for a specific reason—to find out details about Oliver. However, I wasn't so sure if I wanted to know the truth about him. I had this bad feeling…

"You've come here for answers about a certain boy," the psychic stated. "And I'm going to give them to you, but I can't guarantee that you're going to like all of what I say." That bad feeling in the pit of my stomach instantly got worse.

"Okay."

"As a psychic, I know the two of you are 'meant to be' as they say. Even you know it, from that dream you had about you and Oliver in the future with your children. I understand that may be hard to believe, especially after seeing that other vision of Oliver holding you captive." She paused, letting this sink in. Oliver and I together? Married with kids? Yeah, I had a crush on him—maybe a little more than a crush, to be completely honest—but spending the rest of my life with him seemed a little…far-fetched. "But, getting to that point won't be that simple."

I shifted my position on the couch and motioned for Missouri to continue. She said it was best to start at the beginning. "Oliver's mother, Lily, and I have been friends for a very long time. I knew her since she was about ten years old. Her parents were hunters, so, naturally, she became one as well. Your mother, Jo, was friends with her also." The mention of my mom made me pay attention even more. "About seventeen years ago, Lily met this man, and they hit it off immediately; they fell madly in love with each other. I remember Lily being so happy—she'd go on and on about how sweet and romantic he was. They ended up having a child together, but didn't get married."

So, Oliver was a 'love child'…

"Oliver was only a year old when Lily found out that the supposed 'love of her life' wasn't the man she thought he was. He had been a complete lie all along. He had a secret double life. He was a demon, who had somehow acquired the power to walk around as a mortal, with no need of possession at all. He looked, sounded, and acted like a regular human, but he had extraordinary, demonic abilities." I gawked at her, shocked.

"He used her to breed a demonic child?" I asked, my eyes growing wide. Missouri nodded sadly.

"Lily took Oliver and left him immediately. They've been running from him ever since, but they can't escape him for long…he's got demons everywhere tracking them down. His plan is to get Oliver to join him, eventually," she explained. "Now, Oliver is a different type of demon. He was born an ordinary mortal, but he started developing demonic abilities at age thirteen. These powers are going to get stronger as he gets older. His behavior is also changing; he can become violent and angry at any given time. He's a threat, Alyx. He can harm you, even when he doesn't want to. He won't have control over his own body or actions as this progresses, because his father is the one with the control over him now."

Wait…the guy I'm going to end up marrying is a _demon_? No way in hell (no pun intended) was that going to happen! No wonder he beats me up—he's evil! And Dad and Sam knew this; that's why they were acting all weird around him…

It was all starting to make sense.

But …why/how did I see myself married to him? I mean, seriously, think about it. The inevitable 'Sweetie, Daddy is part demon and so are you' conversation with the kids…they'd be…

Well, rather confused. Not to mention a little freaked out. Considering, I'm a hunter, and I have my own special abilities.

Missouri continued again. "Oliver didn't want you to get hurt, Alyx, even though he had the same premonition of the future as you did. He knows you two are supposed to end up together, but he doesn't want to take that chance. I've tried to convince him otherwise, but—"

"Convince him otherwise? Missouri, I can't marry a demon! It's bad enough I still have a crush on the guy! Dad and Sam, they'll disown me!" I yelled, standing up.

"I you feel that way already, you're not going to like the next detail I tell you," she warned. "You may want to sit down, Alyx." Slowly, I sunk back down onto the couch.

This didn't sound good.

"What is it?" I questioned, afraid.

"Alyxandria," she sighed, "Oliver's father is the yellow-eyed demon."

_What? _No. No, no, no…no! There was no possible way. None. At all. I had to get my hearing checked, because I couldn't have heard her correctly. Finding out about Oliver being a demon, that much I could barely handle. But this? This was insane. Oliver couldn't be the offspring of something so diabolical. The thought of marrying him was enough to make me pass out. Dad and Sam would kill me for sure. This premonition of mine was _definitely_ not going to come true. Not if I could help it.

"How was he walking around like a normal human when I saw him the other night, and he was just this…black, shadowy figure?"

"This demon is evolving; growing even stronger," Missouri explained. "He's gained Shapeshifter-like abilities. He can become any creature he wants to now."

"His father _killed _my grandparents, my mother, Kylie! I can't…I won't marry him!"

"Yes, but Oliver didn't do those things, Alyx. Lily raised him to be hunter. I know that doesn't make much a difference to you, but he's as much a victim of his father as Kylie or your mother. You and Oliver met for a _reason_, and your job is to save him."

"Me? Save him? From _what_?"

"From becoming like his father."

"But I thought you said he was being controlled by his father, the yellow-eyed demon. How can I help him if this whole thing has already started?"

"You have to stick by him. Help him fight it the best he can. The only way to completely save him is to destroy his father."

"This is…this is crazy, Missouri. I don't know. Helping him is one thing, marrying him is another."

"Well, we will have to cross that bridge when we get to it, now won't we?" she suggested. "I'm sure, once you get to spend a little more time together, you two will become inseparable."

Yeah right. When pigs fly. I don't know what the woman was thinking. Me, a Winchester, help the yellow-eyed demon's son? I think not.

"This isn't right." I protested. Missouri sighed.

"Alyxandria, give that boy a chance. Deep down, he is a good person. If I can see that, you can. He didn't ask to become like this. It wasn't his fault the yellow-eyed demon _used_ his mother," she told me. "Talk to him, Alyx. Please. He needs your help."

"All right," I replied. "But I'm not guaranteeing anything."

This so-called 'job' of mine was nuts. I couldn't help a demon; I'm a hunter…we _hunt_ things like him, not fall in love with them. The _last_ thing I wanted to do was spend time with the guy after learning about who he really was. However, this little crush I had on him wasn't going away as quickly as I thought it would…

"Oh, and one last thing, before you go, Alyx," Missouri said. "I advise you to not let your father and Sam know about this."

Keeping this from them…that wasn't going to be so easy.

Life just got a whole lot more complicated.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Again, I don't own Supernatural. **

I returned to school the following week, with the information about Oliver weighing heavily on my mind. Missouri said it was my job to help him, but what if I didn't _want_ to? It wasn't fair. I basically got stuck babysitting him, making sure he didn't do anything…evil. Looking out for the spawn of the yellow-eyed demon wasn't exactly in my job description. Oh, and that crush on him? After a long night of debating, I decided I wasn't too fond of him anymore. Finding out that your would-be boyfriend is a demon can do that to you. That futuristic premonition wasn't going to happen at this rate.

However, I knew Oliver and I needed to at least talk. Accomplishing that much would make Missouri happier. I waited until lunch to get a word with him, since he ended up sitting a few tables away from mine. I sat alone and ate rather quickly, then approached Oliver. I took a seat across from him, and he looked up at me rather surprised.

"We need to talk." I told him.

This was an order, not a request. Judging by look on his face, I got the impression that he was aware that I knew about his big secret.

"Not here," he whispered. Oliver got up, grabbed me by the wrist and led me to an abandoned corridor. "You went to see Missouri, and you still want something to do with me?" He kept his voice down, just in case. "Alyxandria—" he glanced around cautiously before finishing his sentence, "I am a _demon_, for crying out loud!"

"I _know _that." I whispered back.

"Then _why_ are we having this conversation?" he asked. "I mean, I thought you would've hated me by now, with all that my father's done to your family."

"I never said I liked you," I said defensively. "Honestly, you're not my favorite person right now, but according to Missouri, I have to help you."

"_Help_ me? I'm the _last_ person you should be helping," He laughed sarcastically. "I can't exactly control this, Alyx. I don't know how you can possibly help. I don't want you getting involved."

"It's a little too late for that, don't you think?" I countered. "Missouri said that I have to save you from becoming like your father…that you can fight this, if you try."

"That's impossible," Oliver sighed. "Alyx, I'm starting to have black outs, where I can't remember what I've done. I've tried to hurt my own mother without even knowing it. I could hurt you…I could_ kill _you…"

"I'm a Healer." I pointed out.

"You never know what could happen," he advised. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I made an attempt to harm you. Your family doesn't need to loose another person to us. I don't want your blood on my hands."

Hold on…did he _like_ me? Why did he care about my well being so much? I sure as hell didn't give a rat's ass about him anymore.

"Fine," I answered. "I didn't want to help you anyway." Okay, so that was a bit childish, but I didn't care. I started to walk off, when he grabbed my wrist.

"Wait," he said. "Maybe…"

"What?" I asked impatiently.

"Maybe you can do something to help."

"Like?" I prompted. He kept changing his mind about this situation; I was getting confused on where exactly we stood.

"I was thinking about an exorcism." He suggested. He said the word 'exorcism' reluctantly.

"Why? What do you think that'll do? You're not possessed. You _are_ a demon."

"I wasn't sure. I only thought that it might possibly help in some way…"

"I doubt it," I answered. "But we could try. I mean, it might kill you or something. I've never done it on someone who wasn't possessed. Actually, I've never done an exorcism by myself; technically, I'm not supposed to."

"Would you do it for me?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Only if you're willing to risk your life. I have no idea what could happen."

"Okay." He agreed. We walked back to the cafeteria, where we exchanged screen names so I could contact him. We had to wait for a night when Dad and Sam went out, obviously. I knew that would take awhile; besides hunting, the two of them didn't get out much.

I shouldn't have given him my screen name, because the next weekend, he IM-ed me out of nowhere.

BackInBlack360: hey Alyx 

**HunterChick67: what do _u_ want? **

I was kind of annoyed; I didn't really want to talk to him, but I continued to anyway, just to see what he was up to.

HunterChick67: u didn't burn down the neighborhood or something, did u? 

**BackInBlack360: very funny. No, I didn't cause any sort of destruction. I swear. **

**HunterChick67: I dunno if I can trust u. demons aren't known for their honesty… **

**BackInBlack360: I'm only half demon. **

**HunterChick67: whatever. **

**HunterChick67: now y r u IM-ing me? **

**BackInBlack360: um, well I wanted to know if u wanted to go out for coffee or something…to talk about the plans for the exorcism… **

He was totally asking me out. _Him_, of all people! Asking _me_ out. After I told him I hated his guts. What the hell was wrong with this guy? I couldn't go 'out for coffee'—that would definitely be categorized as a date. I refused to go on a date with a demon. That's just…illegal. Well, for hunters anyway…I think. Was there some sort of rule against this? I mean, there has to be, considering we hunt demons.

**HunterChick67: I can't. **

**BackInBlack360: y not? **

Uh…maybe because I don't like you all that much?

**HunterChick67: I have plans. **

Yeah, like I _actually_ have a social life.

BackInBlack360: ur just making up stupid excuses… 

Damn him. I guess he was aware of my pathetic social status. The fact that I sit alone in lunch most likely gave that away.

HunterChick67: what u can read minds now? 

**BackInBlack360: maybe **

**BackInBlack360: so will u go? **

I thought long and hard about it, weighing the options for all of two and a half minutes. Back when Oliver was a new student, I would've killed to get the chance to go on a date with him. But now, things were different. I sighed and made the decision quickly.

**HunterChick67: I guess so. But this is _not_ a date, got it? **

**BackInBlack360: I never said it was. **

Oh, yeah, right. It was _so_ implied. Jerk.

BackInBlack360: so…I'll meet u at that little Internet café downtown at 7? 

**HunterChick67: sure. See u then.**

I was probably going to hate myself later for this, but whatever. I mean, we're getting coffee and talking about business, basically. It was no big deal. Right? I signed off, glancing at the clock. It was 6:30. I had about twenty minutes to get changed and freshen up. I had to make myself at least look somewhat presentable.

I threw on a pair of jeans, a red T-shirt and a black zip-up hoodie. After re-applying some eyeliner, I stuffed fifteen dollars into my pocket, and headed downstairs. Dad was in the living room cleaning his guns while Sam sat grading papers.

"Where are you going?" Dad asked. I know it was a bit strange for him to see me looking like I was actually going to go out somewhere on a Saturday night. I usually spent Saturdays with Kylie. Since her death, I only moped around the house in my pajamas on the weekends, eating Ben and Jerry's ice cream.

"I wanted to head downtown for a bit," I stated, picking up my keys and favorite leather jacket. "Go shopping or something…" I was lying to them, and I felt horrible.

"All right, but be careful." Dad warned.

"I will." I called, as I walked out the door.

This was going to be one interesting night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, unfortunately.**

I knew exactly where we were meeting, because there was only one Internet café that was a popular hangout for teens on the weekends. I pulled into the parking lot in the back, and walked inside, scanning the crowded coffee shop for Oliver. The café was actually a pretty cool place; Kylie and I visited it numerous times.

It was a relatively new place, owned by a couple of college students. There were over twenty computers with Internet service, a space with couches and beanbag chairs and a TV for teens to sit around with their friends, and even an area to play video games. They served coffee, cappuccino, and hot chocolate, as well as other drinks, like smoothies and milkshakes. They also served snacks and ice cream.

The interior of the café was very modern looking, with oak hardwood floors and metallic tables and chairs to sit and enjoy the food. The walls were painted all different bright colors; vivid lime greens, electric blue, purple, orange, red and aqua. The walls were covered in posters of movies and bands, newspaper articles, and even some art donated by teens that came to the café regularly.

Oliver was sitting by himself at a two-person table, waiting patiently for me. I ambled over and sat down in the empty chair.

"Hey," He greeted. "Do you want anything?"

"I think I'm gonna get a milkshake. I'll be right—"

"I can get it for you. It's not a problem."

"No, it's all right, I've got money…"

"I don't mind. I mean, I'm the one who dragged you out here in the first place," Oliver answered, standing up. "What kind do you want?"

"Chocolate," I replied. "Which you should have known, with your mind reading ability."

"Ha. Right," He laughed sarcastically. Oliver left to get our drinks, and came back a few minutes later with my milkshake and whatever he had; it was steaming, so I assumed it was coffee or hot chocolate or something. "So, about the exorcism…"

"Oh, yeah," I replied, take a sip of my milkshake. "Well, it's really simple, unless… something goes wrong."

"And what would you define as 'going wrong'?" he inquired.

"Um, you can become violent and try to hurt me, or you can…get killed," I stated. "Which you of course, knew already. I should be pretty safe, since I'll be standing in a circle of salt, and you'll be tied to a chair."

"Oh," he said kind of quietly. "We're doing this at your house, right?"

"Uh-huh. We just have to wait for a night when my dad and uncle are out."

"Why don't we do the exorcism during the day instead? You uncle works at the school, and you dad works, doesn't he?"

"Yeah…what, you mean like skip school?" I asked, biting my lip nervously. "I don't know, Oliver. It's risky, and Sam might get a little suspicious."

"Fake sick or something. You're good at making up excuses." He pointed out. I shot him a dirty look.

"Okay, fine. We'll do the exorcism during the day, then." I agreed. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Skipping school to do an exorcism? I wasn't even really supposed to do an exorcism by myself in the first place.

There was a brief period of awkward silence. I wondered if I should leave, since we were done planning and it was starting to get dark outside. I was about to get up when Oliver spoke.

"Hey, Alyx, there's this cool place I know, and I was wondering if…maybe you'd like to take a drive…" I couldn't believe it. He was asking me this, when I specifically said that it _wasn't_ a date. And yet, I said yes. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I was still confused. I guess maybe there was a little part of me that continued to have feelings for Oliver._ Why _did I keep changing my mind?

So, I got into my car, and followed him. I didn't know where we were going, which was probably not a good thing, but whatever. I went. We ended up driving for over forty-five minutes; he took me out into the countryside, and we stopped at a large cliff overlooking the hills. It was dark now, and as I looked up I saw hundreds upon hundreds of stars glittering the sky. It was incredible; breathtaking, and extremely peaceful.

"This is…amazing." I said, as we stood on the grassy cliff, leaning against the hood of Oliver's car.

"I knew you'd like it," he said, opening up the back door of the car. He searched around for a bit, until he found a blanket, which he spread onto the grass. We both took a seat on it, and gazed at the expanse of land and stars before us, awestruck. It was actually calming. "I come out here a lot. To get away from things…like when my mom and I fight." He explained, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"When…when did you find out about your father?" I asked reluctantly. Oliver sighed.

"I was thirteen. My mom had kept it from me for a long time…" he paused. "I accidentally started a small fire in the school, when I got angry at this one kid for pushing me around. The fire started on one of the papers on his desk—came out of nowhere. The teacher sent a note home, and I guess she had no choice but to tell me the truth. I mean, I always thought I was different from everyone else. I didn't know why I had to learn Latin, or memorize the names and ways to kill certain supernatural creatures. I didn't understand why my mother left for a week at a time and came back with bruises and cuts. I was just…left in the dark about the whole hunting thing." He shifted his position. "And when she told me my dad was this…this _demon_; that he kills, and he's not even a person, I was so shocked I couldn't speak. What was worse was that I was part demon myself, that I didn't have a whole lot of control over this. I was scared…and I still am." Oliver sighed again. "I don't want to be like him, Alyx. I don't want to hurt people, and rip families apart. When I see what you, and your dad and uncle go through—all the pain of loosing loved ones; I couldn't do that to someone else. Hell, he screwed up my family, too. I just…I don't know if I can fight this…"

I didn't know what to say. I was so surprised. Hearing Oliver's side of everything, I felt bad for him. He had a really crappy childhood, and he had this burden of being part demon hanging over him like an ugly, black cloud. I realized that he had a conscience; he was still part human as well, which was something I had forgotten the moment I found out about his true identity. He didn't want any of this. Oliver wasn't evil; he had a heart. Spending time with him showed me that he was, in fact, a good person. He was raised to be a hunter, and he didn't ask for these demonic powers. I actually felt that we had more in common. Up until I found out about the family business, I always wondered why sometimes Dad and Sam came home hurt from their so-called business trips. I didn't understand why I didn't have a mother, like all the other kids at school (Maybe Oliver wondered the same thing about his father?). However, I guess I was lucky enough to find out sooner and receive better training than him. On the other hand, I could totally relate to finding out about certain abilities during school. It's embarrassing, and confusing at the same time.

Damn it, why does Missouri _always_ have to be right?

I was going to save Oliver. He didn't deserve this. No one does. He _did_ need my help, and I was probably the only one who could now see him as a good person. Although, I knew me helping him was going to come at a price. It was a risk in itself. If Dad and Sam ever found out, I'd be kicked out of the family or something. Unfortunately, I don't think I could destroy the demon without the two of them…

"How did you get that necklace?" I ventured, trying to switch topics, to get Oliver to cheer up a bit. If that was at all possible.

"The pentagram? I've had it ever since I could remember. My mom thought it would protect me from my father and the other demons that are always after us. It's kind of pointless now, considering…" he didn't finish, but I got the idea of what he was going to say. He's part demon, so the amulet wouldn't exactly work. Oliver undid the clasp, taking the necklace off. "Here. It'll do you more good than it ever could for me." He offered to put it on, so I pushed my hair aside and he hooked the clasp back together. "Looks better on you anyway." Oliver smiled, and I, of course, blushed. He had that effect on me.

I suddenly realized how close the two of us were. Sitting next to each other on the blanket, I mean. Acting on a crazy, teenage-girl impulse, I placed my hand gently on top of his. I was surprised when he didn't flinch, or make any attempt to pull his hand away. We both sort of just stared at our hands for a moment, unsure. Oliver's seemingly sweet, innocent turquoise eyes locked with mine, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The next thing I knew, we were in a very close proximity of each other, and Oliver leaned over and kissed me.

Now, I know I should've pulled away after that. I really, _really_ should have. It was wrong. So, _so_ wrong on _many_ different levels. Kissing and holding hands with the son of the demon who has caused a fair amount of destruction to my family wasn't a very good thing to be doing. I agreed to help him, not fall in love with him.

But I didn't slap him in the face and run away or anything, like I probably should've done. Instead, I kissed him back. There was a tiny red flag going up somewhere in my head, but I chose to ignore it. Although part of me was aware that this was wrong, the other part felt that it was right. (Which is very confusing…) Perfect. Romantic, even. Think about it: me and a hot guy, in the quiet country, kissing under a starlit sky. It's every girl's dream. Only, this particular hottie happened to be half-demon. However, at that point, you know what I was thinking?

Screw it.

I didn't even freaking care anymore. So what if he was considered the 'enemy' to everyone else? In my opinion, he wasn't a bad person. He _cared _about me, and I now cared about him. I think I finally sorted everything out, and came to the conclusion that I was falling head over heels for the Demon's son. And I didn't care one bit.

I suddenly believed that it was possible for Oliver and I to end up married with children. All I had to do was help him. Which wasn't going to be so easy, but I'd do it somehow.

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm so glad you all like my story. I just want to take the time now to sort of explain why I named the story 'Beautiful Disaster', so the lyrics—which I do _not_ own—to the song by Kelly Clarkson are below. If you read it and think about it, you'll see that it goes perfectly with the story…**

**'Beautiful Disaster'—Kelly Clarkson**

He drowns in his dreams

An exquisite extreme I know

He's as damned as he seems

More heaven than a heart could hold

And if I tried to save him

My whole world would cave in

Just ain't right…just ain't right

Oh and I don't know

I don't know what he's after

But he's so beautiful

Such a beautiful disaster

If I could hold on

Through the tears and the laughter

Would it be beautiful?

Or just a beautiful disaster?

He's magic and myth

As strong as what I believe

A tragedy with

More damage than a soul should see

And do I try to change him

So hard not to blame him

Hold on tight…hold on tight

Oh and I don't know

I don't know what he's after

But he's so beautiful

Such a beautiful disaster

If I could hold on

Through the tears and the laughter

Would it be beautiful?

Or just a beautiful disaster?

I'm longing for love and the logical

But he's only happy hysterical

I'm waiting for some kind of miracle

Waiting so long

He's soft to the touch

But frayed at the ends he breaks

He's never enough

And still he's more than I can take

Oh and I don't know

I don't know what he's after

But he's so beautiful

Such a beautiful disaster

If I could hold on

Through the tears and the laughter

Would it be beautiful?

Or just a beautiful disaster?


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. That privilege belongs to the awesome creator, Eric Kripke.**

"Ally? You all right, kiddo? You don't look so hot…" Uncle Sammy said, standing beside my bed, observing my half-asleep form. I was slightly buried in the sheets, my eyes shut tightly. I had a "headache", or at least I was pretending to have one. I had also gotten up early to apply makeup to make myself look pale. If I wanted to pull this off, I had to look convincing. You'd be surprised by how well some leftover Halloween makeup and a bit of acting will work. I groaned in reply, stuffing my face into the pillow.

"Uhhh…" I muttered, sniffling. Sammy then insisted on taking my temperature, and that got me a little worried; I knew I'd be done for. He would know I'd been faking it. Sam grabbed the thermometer out of the medicine cabinet in the bathroom down the hall, came back, and stuck it in my ear.

"98.6…you don't have a fever." He stated. He put his hand to my forehead for good measure, making me smirk. Sam acted like such a mother sometimes, it was almost as if I actually had one around. Nagging about grades, making my lunch for school, and now taking my temperature? It was ridiculous, really. No wonder why Dad constantly made fun of him all the time, calling him a chick.

"Sore throat," I said hoarsely. "Headache." I coughed. "Chills." Sam sighed.

"I'll call the school to let them know you won't be in today, and I'll bring home your homework. Your Dad's gotta go to work. Are you going to be okay by yourself?" I nodded.

"Thanks, Sammy," I answered groggily. "You're the best." Sam gave me a lopsided grin, ruffling my hair. He planted a kiss on top of my head before walking toward the door.

"Feel better." Sam said. He walked out and shut the door. Once I was completely sure he was gone, I set my alarm clock for eleven-thirty. Dad went to work at ten, but I wanted some extra sleep so I could be prepared for the exorcism. (Which I still couldn't believe I was doing…) I settled back into the blankets and drifted off in a matter of minutes.

When I heard the alarm at eleven-thirty, I hopped out of bed quickly and got dressed in a pair of jeans and an emerald green, long-sleeved T-shirt. I went downstairs to the kitchen, where I wolfed down two bowls of Cheerios. After breakfast, I dialed Oliver's cell.

"So, you managed to pull it off after all." He laughed.

"Yep." I answered.

"My mom's away on a hunt. She doesn't know that I'm skipping, and I doubt she'd care even if she was here anyway." It seemed to me like Lily Devereaux was very resentful of Oliver. Did she not care about her own son at all? Sure, he's half-demon, but he's still her son, for crying out loud.

"Lucky you," I said while climbing the stairs up to our attic. "I had to trick my uncle into thinking I was sick, with my superb acting skills." Opening the creaky, attic door, I pulled on the chain that turned on the light. I padded across the room, my flip-flops clicking with each step. I unlocked the large trunk that contained some extra hunting equipment, and started digging around for the things I needed.

"When do you want me over at your place?" Oliver questioned. I glanced at my watch.

"How about…a half-hour?"

"Sounds good to me. See you then." He hung up, and I went back to my search. I fished out a container of salt, a rosary, and some holy water. I knew I would need my Grandpa's journal, since it held the actual exorcism ritual; the journal was kept safe in my dad's room. Leaving the supplies out, I dashed into Dad's room, got down on all fours, and dragged a box out from under the bed. Grandpa John's leather-bound journal was in it, beneath some tissue paper. I took it out carefully, and pushed the box back under the bed.

Returning to the attic, I pulled a chair in the center of the room, and set the rope on the floor next to it. I placed the journal, rosary, and the small flask of holy water on the table across from the chair, and made a circle of salt around myself. After everything was set up, I sat down in the chair and read over the ritual, just to make sure.

Oliver was at my house at twelve-thirty sharp. I let him in quickly, and he followed me upstairs to the attic.

"So, you're absolutely sure you want to do this? Because, you really don't have to. I mean, we don't know what's going to happen…" I reminded him, picking up the rope. What was this exorcism going to do to him if it didn't kill him? Take away his demonic powers? Get rid of his blackouts?

"Yep. I trust you." He answered, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind, resting his chin on the top of my head. We shared a kiss, and then he sat down in the chair. I tied his wrists to the arms of chair, and walked over to the circle of salt, grabbing the journal and rosary along the way. My hands were shaking as I opened it to the correct page. I was really nervous; I had never done an exorcism unaccompanied, since—as I stated before—it was against the rules for me. What if this _did_ kill Oliver? How would I explain_ that _to Dad and Sam?

I took a deep breath and started reading the ritual in Latin. Everything went okay for a short while, until Oliver looked like he was in a great amount of pain. He kept grimacing and struggling against his bonds, yelling out in agony.

All hell was beginning to break loose. Literally.

The attic door slammed shut with enough force to shake the entire room. The container of holy water began to rattle on the table. The window suddenly flung open, and a strong breeze filled the room, whipping my hair all over, and threatening to make me loose my page. Oliver was doing his best to fight it, but unfortunately, the demonic side won over. I think he was having a blackout, because his whole personality changed drastically. He stopped thrashing, and gave me this wicked stare, his eyes now black as coal with a hint of yellow. It was seriously the creepiest thing I had ever seen. I stopped reading temporarily, and stared right back at him.

"You _really _thought you could get rid of me, didn't you?" he mocked, his voice turning harsh and menacing. "An _exorcism_?" he laughed. "I'm sorry to break it to you, but those tricks don't work on me either, _princess_." I swallowed hard. Using his telekinesis, he untied the ropes that held him with his mind, and got to his feet. Oliver stepped right over the circle of salt, and shoved me into the wall, knocking the journal from my hands. He had an iron-like grip on my wrists; I couldn't budge.

I mentally kicked myself for doing something this stupid. This definitely taught me a lesson. Now, I had the Demon's son pissed off, and I had no way to defend myself. _Great job, Alyx_ I thought. _He's gonna kill me, and Dad and Sam are going to come home and find my dead body in the attic. _

"You know, I thought you were better than this, Alyx, with all that training you've had," Oliver mused. "I didn't think it'd be _this_ easy to kill you."

"Man, you've got a big ego." I muttered, receiving a hard slap across the face. The ring on Oliver's finger created a cut on my cheek, which stung immediately. I knew, however, that it would heal in a few seconds.

"You should really learn to shut your mouth." He advised. Like I didn't know that already. I needed to get out of this situation fast…

Naturally, I did the only thing a girl does when in a bad predicament with a guy. I kicked him between the legs. Not exactly a hunter's best approach when dealing with a demon, but hey, the guy's still half-mortal. Moaning in pain, Oliver dropped to his knees, and I made a run for it, grabbing the flask of holy water on the way out of the room. I sprinted down the stairs and got to the living room when I heard Oliver's footsteps moving rapidly down the staircase.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Alyx." Oliver called, as I moved swiftly over to the kitchen. Unfortunately, Oliver was standing in the center of the kitchen when I arrived. Yeah, that's right. He was _already_ there. He had the power to transport himself anywhere he wanted in the blink of an eye.

Unfair.

All I had was healing and annoying premonitions in my dreams. Neither of which helped at the moment. Well, unless I got hurt, that is. Like, for instance, when Oliver decided it would be fun to fling me through the air to show off his impressive telekinetic skills. My back hit the cabinets over the sink, and I tumbled onto the floor. I lay there for a moment, trying to recollect myself before gripping the edge of the sink to get up. I got to my feet painfully, and thinking fast, I grabbed a heavy, stainless steel pan out of the sink to use as a means of defense. Not the greatest weapon, but maybe I could somehow knock him out—maybe get him back to his old self.

The two of us maneuvered around the kitchen—okay, so I kind of ran around the kitchen swinging the pan like wild woman while Oliver moved stealthily about with his unearthly speed—dodging each other. Oliver ducked agilely when I swung the pan at his head, and I jumped and rolled out of the way when he tried to throw knives, plates, and other kitchenware my way. Somehow, during the struggle, I managed to catch him off guard, which resulted in whacking Oliver in the back of the head at full force. And boy, did he go down like a sack of potatoes.

I dropped the pan onto the floor and approached his unconscious body, kicking at his leg just to make sure he was really out cold. Now, I had to figure out what to do with him. I lifted up his torso and slipped my hands under his arms, and dragged him into the living room. Pulling one hundred and fifty or so pounds of sixteen-year-old guy isn't any picnic, either. It was a wonder how I even got him up onto the couch. I prayed that he wouldn't wake up angry—that is, _if_ he woke up. I hoped I didn't give him brain damage or anything, because I did smack him with the pan pretty hard.

When Oliver finally came to, it was about two-thirty. I was sitting in one of the chairs in the living room; Oliver sat up and swung his legs over the side of the couch, groaning, rubbing the back of his head where a huge bump had formed.

"What happened?" He inquired. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck."

"A pan is more like it," I laughed. "You don't remember anything?"

"Not really…I remember being tied to a chair up in the attic, and you starting to read in Latin, then I blacked out." I walked over to him, taking a seat next to him. I took the glass of water and aspirin I had left on the table, and handed it to him. He swallowed the pills and downed the glass of water, thanking me. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Nah, I'm fine. I did more damage to you. I'm the one who sidelined you with a steel pan. I had no choice, of course. You _were_ trying to kill me."

"I'm sorry, Alyx, I shouldn't have put you in this position; making you do the exorcism."

"I'm the one who agreed to it, Oliver. I decided to help you. I knew it would be dangerous, and I took the risk anyway. You had no idea what you were doing. As far as I'm concerned, it wasn't really you I was dealing with earlier. I saw the hate in those eyes and I knew, Oliver. The _real_ you—the one I'm going to save—would never do that to me." I told him. I leaned over and started kissing him, and he kissed me back, cupping my face with both of his hands. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and ran my hands through his shaggy, slightly disheveled hair. Both of us were too preoccupied with the fact that we were practically making out on the couch to notice a car pull up in the driveway…


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, and I never will.**

Two cars pulled into the driveway, actually. I guess Dad and Sam _conveniently_ decided to show up at the house at the same time. I learned later that Dad felt bad for leaving me all alone while I was, er, 'sick', and he wasn't doing anything exciting at work, so he thought it was necessary to watch over me for the remainder of the day. Meanwhile, Sam got a little suspicious of Oliver and I being absent, like I thought he would. Instead of staying after school to correct papers or whatever it was that he did, he raced home.

They chose that precise moment to step through the door—just in time to see us hormone-driven teens almost on top of each other on the couch, kissing. To say that they were mad would be a serious understatement. They were beyond furious.

Once Oliver and I realized Sam and Dad were in the room, I immediately broke the kiss, climbing off the couch. Oliver got up and stood behind me. A moment of awkward silence passed, where the four of us were merely staring at each other, unable to speak. Dad and Sam were glaring at us, really, while I stood there, mortified. What teenage girl wants their dad to walk in as they're lip-locking with a hot guy? Or, in my particular case, a hot guy who happens to be the Demon's son?

"Get him out of this house," Dad demanded angrily. "_Now_." I was in _so_ much trouble; it really wasn't even funny. Grounded-for-an-eternity kind of trouble. I took a firm grip on Oliver's hand and led him out of the house, avoiding any sort of eye contact with either Winchester man.

"I'm sorry, Alyx," Oliver apologized, leaning against the side of his car. I stood across from him, shivering slightly from the chilly, winter air surrounding us. "I shouldn't have—"

"Don't," I stated simply. "It's not your fault. I'll…I'll sort this out somehow." I reassured him. However, I wasn't sure that I'd be able to get myself out of this mess. "You better hit the road before my father comes out here with his .45." Oliver smirked, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I stayed outside until his car disappeared before walking slowly and miserably back to the house, knowing that the lecture/punishment waiting for me was going to be especially torturous and would _not_ end well.

Dad and Sam were in the living room; Dad was pacing back and forth and Sam was sitting in a chair staring down at the floor. I entered quietly, my heart racing. Dad was going to go off on me at any moment; I could practically feel the red hot anger radiating from him. Plopping myself down in the center of the couch, I kept my gaze on the chipped nail polish covering my toes, continuing to avoid eye contact with him at all costs. There was a period of tense silence that seemed like it lasted for an hour, but in reality I'm pretty sure it was only about ten minutes. However, it felt like ages to me. I think Dad was so pissed that he couldn't even come up with a way to start yelling. And when Dean Winchester is pissed, you don't want to be on the receiving end of the anger. It wasn't a good thing. I was scared out of my mind.

"This is great, Alyx," he began. "This is just _great_…I…I can't believe you! I don't even know what to say to you right now."

"Dad—" He cut me off completely, ignoring my attempt to explain myself.

"After everything we've told you about _things_ like him, you go off and start making out with one of them? You know better than that, Alyxandria! You are a _hunter_. He's a _demon_—the yellow-eyed demon's _son_, no less!"

"Dad—" I tried a second time, but was interrupted yet again.

"I don't want to hear any of your excuses," he warned. "You were brought up to destroy these things, not fall in love with them!"

"He's not a _thing_, Dad! He's a human being, too!" I pointed out.

"No, Alyx, he's not. Oliver is nothing but trouble. He'll take advantage of you, just like his father used Lily."

"He wouldn't do that to me!" I said sternly.

"Maybe not now, but when he turns, he will," Dad replied. "His father is the one destroying this family! I'm not going to sit here and let you go parading around with his son, acting like everything is okay! You better dump his sorry ass, or else."

"No," I declared firmly, getting to my feet. "You can say whatever you want, but I'm _not_ going to let him go. I love him, and he loves me. You're just going to have to deal with that." I started making my way toward the stairs. I didn't want to argue any longer, but I knew that wasn't going to happen. Every argument in the Winchester household turned into a yelling match, and no one could ever let anything go.

"Alyxandria, get back here! I'm not finished talking to you yet!" Dad called. He and Sam were both following me.

"That's too bad, 'cause I'm done." I shouted, halfway up the stairs. I ran into my room, slamming the door shut. I could hear someone coming, though, and I had a good feeling this conversation wasn't over. Collapsing onto the bed, I sat there for a moment, fighting back tears. It was in that moment that I made a decision. I couldn't be in this house any longer; I knew if I stayed, Dad and I would probably tear each other's heads off, with both of our bad tempers.

There was a knock on the door as I was moving all over my room, as quickly as possible, managing to fit my entire wardrobe into a couple of duffel bags. Which was an amazing task to accomplish.

"Go away." I ordered.

"Alyx, it's Sam. I just want to talk."

"I don't want to talk," I answered, shoving some other important items into one duffel bag. "Leave me alone, Sammy. Please." Unfortunately, Sam did not respect my wishes, and stepped into the room, seizing me by the arms. I tore away from his grip, and went over to zip up the bags I had packed. Sam stared at me like I was insane.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To Missouri's," I said. "I can't stay here. Not anymore." Sam followed me as I left the room, grabbing the duffel bags and messenger bag with my school stuff in it. I headed down the stairs and made my way over to the front door.

"Alyx, wait," Sam pleaded. I threw on my favorite leather jacket, making sure I had my car keys. I picked up my bags and reached for the door handle when Sam grabbed the sleeve of my jacket. "It doesn't have to be like this. Give your dad some time." Give him time? For what? He was never going to be happy with my choice to stick by Oliver.

"I'm sorry, Sam," I replied. "I can't."

And I walked out. Just like that. Sam followed me as far as the porch. There, he watched me place my bags into the back of my car. I paused to look at him once more before climbing into the driver's seat. He didn't know what to do. We were both aware, though, that this issue was slowly tearing what was left of our family apart. I drove away, leaving the two people I cared most about behind, to help someone else I now loved.

I was surprised to find Oliver's car in Missouri's driveway when I got there. A minute or so after I pulled up, Oliver came out of the house and we immediately embraced each other. I rested my chin on his shoulder, holding onto him tight, tears beginning to roll down my face.

"Missouri said you'd be coming," Oliver explained, rubbing my back soothingly. "I got here just a few minutes ago. I went home, and my mom was there. The school called to tell her I wasn't in class, and she managed to pry the information from me. We got into a fight of our own, and this is the first place I could think of to go to." I let go of Oliver and took hold of his hand.

"Great minds think alike, I guess," I said, wiping away tears. He offered to help me take my things inside. Missouri was standing in the kitchen; she wrapped me in a hug as soon as she saw me. "Is it all right if I stay here?"

"Honey, you know you don't have to ask," Missouri said in that motherly tone of hers. "I've got plenty of room for the two of you." She motioned for me to come with her upstairs, where she had a couple of spare bedrooms. Oliver had already settled into one, so, naturally, I threw my stuff into the other room, which was right across from his. I'd unpack everything eventually, since I had a feeling I'd be staying for quite awhile. Missouri was the only one who fully understood our situation, which meant she was more than willing to help.

Later that night, I was lying beneath the sheets of the bed, in the room I was now occupying, listening to the small pitter-patter of light, freezing rain—that was supposed to, according to the weather report, turn into snow in the morning—hitting the window. I was unable to sleep; I still couldn't grasp the fact that I'd actually run away from my house. I wondered how Sammy was holding up, since he seemed pretty upset by my departure. Dad was so mad at me right now, that I doubted he gave a crap that I was gone. It was probably better that I left, instead of enduring the silent treatment from him—or worse, getting _kicked_ out of the house.

Sighing, I got up from bed, and wandered across the hallway, hoping Oliver was awake. I tiptoed quietly into the dark room, and approached his bed. He was lying on his back, eyes closed, the dim moonlight coming from the window falling on his peaceful form. I didn't have the heart to wake him, so I just slid in and lied down on my side, facing him.

"What are you doing up?" he whispered, surprising me a bit. I hadn't expected him to be awake, especially when he hadn't acknowledged my sudden presence in the room.

"I should ask you the same thing," I whispered back. "I had trouble sleeping. You?"

"Hmm…I don't really know. Can't fall asleep either, I guess." I inched closer to Oliver, resting my head against his chest, draping my arm over him. He slid his arm around my shoulders, running his fingers along my arm gently. It would've been nice to stay like this forever; just the two of us. I felt extremely protected in Oliver's arms; no one would dare hurt me while he was around, because he would never allow it.

"When your mother asked you about where you were today, and you got into that fight…she kicked you out of the house, didn't she?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah, she did," Oliver answered, a hint of sadness in his voice. "How'd you know?"

"An intuition, I think…it's just, I always kind of knew that you and your mom—"

"Don't have the greatest relationship in the world?" he finished. I nodded. "You could say _that_ again. She's never really been there for me, you know? Growing up, she was always out of the house, dumping me on other family members—the ones who'd actually _talk_ to us—or her friends. I didn't have a childhood; I grew up too fast. I _had_ to, since she left me to take care of myself while she was gone when I was old enough." He paused, staring up at the ceiling. "You know, I don't even call her 'mom' anymore…"

"Really?"

"Yeah. I started calling her Lily soon after I found out about my…father. I don't know what made me do it. I guess I didn't see her as a mom. She wasn't a very good one, in my opinion. I knew she's always had this…this sort of underlying hatred for me, or something, because of the Demon and how he ruined her life by having a child with her," he sighed. "You're lucky to have a mom that loved you, even if it was for a short while."

"I'm sure you're mother loves you, deep down, even though she doesn't exactly show it."

"I doubt it, Alyx," he muttered. "What about your mother?"

"_What_ about her?"

"Did your dad ever tell you what she was like?"

"Rarely, but only because I don't stop nagging. It's a touchy subject with him, which is understandable. Dad said that she was very pretty; blonde hair, blue eyes…he said I have her smile. I've seen the pictures to prove it. Dad told me she was stubborn, and full of energy; I guess I'm a lot like that, too," I told him, suddenly feeling teary-eyed. "I wish she could've stayed around long enough for me to at least _remember_ her."

"We're going to stop him, Alyx, I swear…so he doesn't hurt any other families like this." He didn't have to explain. I knew he was referring to the Demon.

"How, Oliver? We can't go after him by ourselves, it's too dangerous."

"We have to _try_. It's the only way you're going to be able to save me."

"I know, but I'm pretty sure word has traveled fast about us. Hunters and demons alike will be after us; we won't be safe anywhere. And with the Demon trying to turn you, and this war he's waging, everything will be chaos. I mean, who knows what'll happen?" I asked, looking his directly in the eye, propping myself up with one elbow.

"This war has been going on since before either of us was born," Oliver pointed out. "We have to end it, Alyx, or it'll only get worse."

"We're just two people, Oliver. Teenagers. We can't stop an _entire_ demonic war, let alone your father. There are probably hundreds of demons out there, walking on the earth as mortals. We _can't_—"

"_Yes_, we can, Alyx. There are others out there that can help. Other people like us," he explained. "If we can find them, we can end all of this."

"Do you _really_ think we could pull it off, and manage to stay together?" I wondered.

"We can. I know we will."

"How can you be so sure?" I asked.

"_Amor Vincit Omnia_, Alyx." Oliver stated, leaning over and placing a kiss onto my lips.

_Love Conquers All. _

**A/N: So that's Chapter 11. Hope you liked it! I want to thank all of the reviewers for their kind words of encouragement…**

**P.S.—Is anyone else _really_ excited about the 'Supernatural Origins' comic book? Because I _cannot_ wait to get it!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Don't own the amazing TV series known as Supernatural…**

So, basically, Latin class that Monday made me feel a little uneasy, considering I had to be in the same room with Sam. With me not living at home for the past couple of days, it was just kind of awkward. I didn't hate him or anything, but I knew he was going to keep asking me to come home. That's why I wasn't really all that surprised when he stopped me as I was leaving the classroom, pulling me aside. Oliver gave me a knowing glance, and left, while I stood there, arms crossed over my chest. I didn't want to have this conversation—not at school.

"They're going to wonder where I am, up in study hall." I complained, as my uncle shut the door.

"You spend _all_ of your study halls in my room," Sam countered. "What makes you think they're gonna care this time?"

"I have a lot of work to—"

"That's crap, Alyx, and you know it. I just want to have a talk; it won't take that long. Then you can do your…work." I sighed and plopped down on a chair in the front row.

"How's everything at home?" I asked casually. "What's your _brother_ up to?"

"Alyx,_ stop_ it."

"What?" I asked, pretending like I had no clue what I did wrong. Sam frowned.

"Your Dad had every right to yell at you the other night," he stated. "Ally, you _cannot_ get involved with that boy's problems."

"_Great_, now I'm going to get a lecture from you, too." I said, throwing my hands up in the air, aggravated.

"Oliver will end up hurting you, or getting you killed. We're just trying to protect you, Alyx, because we care about you."

"I know you're worried, Sammy, but please. I _have_ to do this. I have to help Oliver. You don't understand…"

"_Help_ him? Alyx, how do you think you're going to do _that_?" he asked. I rolled my eyes and stood up, grabbing my messenger bag.

"See, I knew you'd never get it." I started moving toward the door.

"Wait. Ally, please. Just come home. Christmas is next week…"

"Bye, Sammy." I replied, and walked out. Again. Don't get me wrong, I didn't feel good about it; abandoning my family like that. But I knew the only way to fix this—put an end to everything—was to stop the war, and get rid of the Demon. Only after that was accomplished, things would be normal. Well, as normal as they could be for _my_ family.

I waltzed up to the study hall, entering quietly. Teachers don't really care if you're late to study hall, but I told the current teacher that I was held up in Latin class anyway. I took a seat in the back, and pulled out my Math homework that was due in two periods. Math was probably my worst subject, and I had a tendency to zone out or stare off into space while working on it. As I was scanning the room, fidgeting with my mechanical pencil, I saw someone standing near the teacher's desk—someone who was totally out of place. It was a man, who was probably middle aged. He was dressed in a black dress shirt, and black pants. He had pasty, white-as-a-sheet skin, and his eyes were all black, like someone who's possessed by a demon. Only that couldn't be the case, since I was clearly the only one seeing this man. Was he a ghost? Ghosts don't normally have black eyes, though. They look exactly like they did at the time of their death. My guess was that the guy was some sort of demon—who knew? New types were popping up everywhere these days—that, for some reason, I could see, but no one else could.

Creepy.

This most likely wasn't a very good thing, either. It was probably one of the Demon's buddies, come to assassinate me. During school, of all places.

How nice.

But how was I going to do something about it in a crowded study hall? I'd look like a psycho, fighting off something invisible to those who obviously weren't that perceptive to the supernatural, unlike myself. Which was my best guess as to why _I_ was the one seeing this guy.

I was getting a little creeped out with this dude staring at me, so I lowered my gaze back down to my Math homework. I attempted to finish the problem I had been working on, but I still got that feeling of someone watching me. When I looked up again, the demonic/ghost guy was gone. I couldn't help but think of his appearance as some kind of warning…

Heading for my next class, English, I kept an eye out for the dude, hoping he wouldn't jump me in the middle of the packed hallway and slam me into a locker. Not only would it hurt, but it would also look stupid if an invisible force suddenly attacked me. I walked quickly, practically running into the classroom. Once the bell rang and everyone was settled into his or her seats, the teacher, Mrs. Wedell, started a discussion on the short story we had read yesterday. I wasn't paying much attention, because my mind was now elsewhere; worried about other things. Like getting murdered by a ghostly demon.

Halfway through the class, the temperature seemed to drop abruptly, causing goosebumps to appear on my arms. Every time I exhaled, I could see my breath, and soon, I was shivering. I mean, _really_ shivering. I couldn't get warm. It was like I was standing outside, in the dead of winter, wearing summer clothes. As I surveyed the rest of the students around me, I saw, horrified, that no one else was suffering from the sudden plummet in temperature. Everyone else was perfectly fine. Me? I was freezing my ass off. Then, I realized that maybe I was the only one who felt the room turn colder.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another one of those freaky, demon-ghost things. This one was female, with long, disheveled, black hair and opaque eyes. She, too, had a sickly pale complexion. She was wearing a long-sleeved, black dress, that was ripped and frayed at the bottom and around the sleeves. She also had some chunky, high-heeled boots on. She kinda resembled that chick from the movie, _The Ring_, but she was older; probably in her late twenties.

The girl was standing near the chalkboard, grinning evilly at me, her bangs hanging in front of her coal-black eyes. I averted my stare, looking down at the floor, rubbing my arms to try to get warm. I was still extremely cold, and I knew it was going to get worse if I didn't leave, so I raised my hand.

"Yes, Miss Winchester?" Mrs. Wedell asked, slightly annoyed that I had interrupted her little speech.

"C-Can I g-go to the n-nurse?" I asked, my teeth chattering as I struggled to form words. I wasn't really planning on going to the nurse; I just needed a way to get out of class. Mrs. Wedell looked at me like I was completely nuts. I guess I kind of seemed that way, with the all the unexplained shivering I was doing.

"Yes…yes, of course." She answered. I took my things and bolted, shutting the door on my way out. As I was running down the hallway, I glanced back to see demon/ghost girl walk right through the classroom door. She was coming for me now, moving slowly, but in a taunting way. The huge fluorescent lights on the ceiling were beginning to flicker, and the vacant hallway was growing cold. I sprinted down the stairs, panting, my breath creating small, white clouds in the air. I turned down another hallway, which was an empty corridor with only a few classrooms that were rarely used anymore.

I thought I'd lost demon girl, but I was horribly mistaken, because a moment later, she materialized right in front of me and threw me into the nearest wall, telekinetically. I rolled onto the floor, landing on my back. She stood over me, a wicked smile plastered on her face. She bent down, and grabbed a fistful of my shirt. Before she could make another move, I kicked her in the stomach, which spared me just enough time to get back on my feet.

"Ya know, I'm not really a big fan of cat fights…" I muttered sarcastically. Demon girl waved her hand, which sent me flying into a couple of lockers. I lay there painfully, watching as she approached me again.

"We're watching you, _sweetheart_," she stated coldly. "_He _is watching you—your _every_…_single_…_move_," She emphasized each word with a step closer to me. "He's gonna get inside that sweet little head of yours one way or another, especially with that nifty talent you've been so _lucky _to receive."

Was she referring to my healing abilities, or the darker side of my newly acquired power? A bad gut feeling made me think it was the latter.

"Hey!" A familiar voice shouted. Both the demon girl and I looked over to see Oliver standing in the corridor with us. I had never been so relieved to see him. "Leave her alone." He demanded. Demon girl gawked at him like she was shocked.

"You…" she said, "You're _him_—the half-mortal heir to the—"

"I'm not the _heir_ to _anything_," Oliver replied angrily, sort of annoyed. "Now get lost before I send you to the tenth level of hell for attacking my girlfriend."

Demon girl disappeared faster than you could say 'paranormal activity'.

"Nice job," I said, impressed. "Thanks for coming to my rescue. That chick was such a bitch. I thought she was going to mutilate me or something. She seemed like she had a few screws loose up there…" I told him. "Is there _really_ a tenth level of hell?" Oliver shrugged.

"Like I know," he said sarcastically. "It sounded threatening, anyway."

"How did you know I was in trouble?"

"A feeling," Oliver answered. "I saw the demons in the school, too, and I knew they'd be after us." He picked up my bag, which I'd dropped sometime during the fight, and we started walking down the hallway. "I think we should leave."

"Leave school? Now?"

"It's getting dangerous for the two of us. The demons will come back. They won't give up, Alyx. Not until we're dead, or on their side."

We made a steathly escape from the school, which wasn't all that hard, compared to other places I've had to find a way out of without getting caught. Once in the student parking lot, we climbed into Oliver's car and sped away.

"What talent was she talking about?" Oliver asked as we drove toward Missouri's house. I didn't realize that he had heard that. You see, he knew that I was a healer, obviously, but I neglected to mention the fact that I had the one of the same abilities as the Demon.

"Uhh…well, I never told you, but I actually have a power…like your father's."

"_What_?"

"I can…hurt people," I confessed, swallowing hard. "With my mind. I've only done it once—on accident. It was when I first discovered it."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"I don't know. I mean, I'm not exactly thrilled about having a power like that."

"Well, _this_ complicates things."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a powerful ability, Alyx. A deadly one. One that every demon envies," Oliver elaborated. "That's why my father is so set on making you one of his 'soldiers'."

"How _wonderful_."

When we got to the porch of Missouri's house, we noticed that the door was ajar, which was strange. Missouri is usually the type to keep her doors closed and locked at all times. Cautiously, Oliver and I stepped inside, and saw that the house was a complete mess. The furniture was toppled over, there were tables, cabinets, and lamps broken, glass shattered, and other objects strewn everywhere. Someone had obviously broken in and destroyed the place, which was something that immediately concerned me.

I dropped my bag onto the floor, my heart pounding. Missouri was part of my family. She had been like a mother, caring for me all of my life. If something happened to her, I _swear_…

"Missouri?" I called, starting to search the living room and dining room while Oliver went to check the rest of the downstairs level of the house. "Missouri!"

"Alyx! In here!" Oliver shouted, his voice coming from the kitchen. I ran in there, tears burning in the corners of my eyes. Oliver was kneeling on the floor by Missouri, who was pinned against the ground level cabinets, the kitchen table holding her in place. She was only half-conscious; there was a large gash on the back of her head that was bleeding profusely, and I suspected that she had a few broken ribs from the impact of the table. Oliver and I each took a side of the table and lifted it, setting it down a few feet away. We helped Missouri carefully lie down onto the floor, and I sat with her head in my lap. Oliver got out his cell phone and called 911 to explain the situation.

"Oh, Alyx, honey…I'm so glad you're all right." Missouri said weakly.

"Me? I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about. What happened?"

"They came in and tried to kill me—made a damn mess of the house, too. There were about four or five of them."

"Demons?"

"Yes," Missouri answered. "They came here lookin' for you and Oliver. When they couldn't find you, they left me like this and headed for the school."

"We saw two of them there. One attacked me, so we left." I stated. Missouri let out a painful groan.

"The ambulance is on its way. You'll be all right, Missouri." I reassured her. Then, thinking fast, I put my palm on the gash on her head, and concentrated deeply, hoping it would heal. I'd never tried healing another person before, but I had some idea of how to do it. Luckily, it worked, and the wound disappeared.

"Thank you, child," Missouri said, offering a smile. "You're a real angel."

The ambulance arrived minutes later, with two cop cars in tow. The paramedics put Missouri on a stretcher and wheeled her out, while the police officers investigated the scene and questioned us. Once we had told them that Missouri had said a couple of robbers broke in and raided the place, we hopped into Oliver's car and drove to the hospital. I called Sam on the way there to inform him on what had happened.

"Hello? Alyx? I'm in the middle of a class—wait, what are you doing out of school?"

"Missouri's in the hospital," I replied. "Oliver and I had to leave school. I promise I'll explain everything later, but—"

"Okay. I'll be right there."

"Call Dad for me and tell him."

"I will," Sam said. "See you in a few."

I hung up just as we were pulling into the hospital parking lot. We went inside and approached the front desk, where a young nurse sat typing away on her computer and talking on the phone. She held up her index finger, telling us to wait a few minutes so she could finish. I scanned our surroundings, thinking about how much I hated hospitals. That specific, headache inducing smell it had, the sterile white walls, and the depressing vibes I got whenever I entered one.

"Can I help you?" The nurse asked politely after she hung up the phone.

"Yeah, a friend of ours was just taken here." Oliver said.

"Name?" The nurse inquired.

"Missouri Moseley." I replied. She put the information into her computer.

"Okay…let's see. Fourth floor, room 428." She handed us a visitor's pass, and we took an elevator up to the fourth floor. When we got to her room, a doctor was just leaving it.

"How is she?" I asked him.

"She'll be fine. She has a concussion, and a couple of broken ribs. We're going to keep her overnight for observation. You can go right on in; she's awake." The doctor told us. We walked in; Missouri was lying in bed, looking groggy but happy to see us. I pulled up a chair and sat be her bedside, while Oliver sat in the other chair across from the foot of the bed.

Sam and Dad came about a half-hour later. Sam immediately pulled me into a hug, also glad that I was okay. Dad and I sort of looked at each other awkwardly, just to acknowledge that we were both there, in the same room, but we didn't say anything. I was about to leave the room to let Dad and Sam talk to Missouri alone, when Missouri yelled at me.

"No, you don't," Missouri warned. "You are _not_ going to walk out that door, Alyxandria. You're going to stay in this room and talk to your family." I had my back turned, so I rolled my eyes, thinking she didn't know. But, of course, being a psychic, Missouri knows _all_. "Don't you roll your eyes at _me_, child." I turned on my heel and gave her that kind of 'what-did-I-do?' look. "And stop cussing at me, while you're at it." This remark, for some odd reason, made Uncle Sammy laugh.

"I didn't—"

"You were thinkin' it," Missouri pointed out. "Now get over here." I shuffled over to her bedside and stood next to Sam. "With this war escalating, this isn't any time to be mad at each other. You need to put your differences aside, and apologize. The only way you're going to be able to win this is if you work _together_."

"We wouldn't be fighting if Dad wasn't acting like such an asshole." I muttered.

"You have no business having any sort of relationship with that boy," Dad yelled back, pointing an accusing finger at Oliver. "He's going to get you killed!"

"Like you'd care!" I shouted. "You didn't even care that I left the house!"

"That is _not_ true," Dad said defensively. He took hold of my arms, and looked me right in the eye. "Alyx, this family's already sacrificed so much…I just don't know—I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you." I searched his eyes, which were identical to mine, and saw something in them that I rarely found: fear. Dad was afraid; he was afraid for me, for Sam, this war, and what was going to happen in the future as things got more hectic. "I love you, Alyx."

"I love you, too, Dad." I said, and Dad pulled me into a tight hug, kissing the top of my head. At least everything was peaceful between us now. Missouri was right; our family needed to stick together. We couldn't afford to be fighting with each other. We were stronger hunters when we worked as a team. We'd learn soon how the strong bonds of the Winchester family would be tested…


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, just borrowing temporarily.**

"Wait a second. Let me get this straight. They were demons, but only you two could see them?" Sam asked, scratching his head. We were still in Missouri's hospital room, trying to sort things out.

"Yeah. And whenever they were around, the temperature dropped, but only I could feel it." I explained.

"You and Oliver are sensitive to any being in the supernatural world," Missouri clarified. "Which is why you could see them."

"That's exactly what I thought." I agreed.

"These demons…they're only _some_ of the hundreds who are in this covenant with the yellow-eyed demon. They've made a pact to basically destroy humanity, probably taking out the hunters first, since they're the ones who know about the war. He'll plan on wiping out regular humans next; they're more vulnerable because they're clueless. The demons are all his soldiers, but he needs more. That's why he's recruiting the people with special abilities." Oliver said.

"How do _you_ know all of this?" Dad asked, skeptically. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he still held bitter feelings toward Oliver.

"Why does it matter, Dean?" Sam asked, interfering before a fight erupted again. Tensions in the small hospital room remained high, and anything said that was questionable would most likely set someone off. "This information could help us." Dad mumbled something under his breath—probably a profanity, knowing him—that I couldn't quite catch.

"A covenant. _That's_ what that chick was talking about when she said you're the half-mortal heir." I said to Oliver, starting up the main conversation again. He nodded sadly. I knew he wasn't too enthused about that part of being the Demon's son. I wouldn't be, either.

"Which is the reason why he wants me on his side—so I can help him and take over one day." Oliver sighed. Fearing that my dad would say something rude to Oliver about that statement, Missouri decided to explain our plan of action, based on her psychic predictions.

"This is going to sound a little contradicting, but trust me," Missouri began. "I know what I'm doing. I _am_ the psychic, remember? Alyx and Oliver, you two need to get out of Lawrence as soon as you can. Immediately after Christmas, if that's at all possible."

"Leave? Why?" Dad asked. "I can't just let her go off by herself. Not while there are demons everywhere tracking her! Especially since you said we should fight this together!"

"I said to trust me, Dean. You will fight together eventually," Missouri reminded him. "Alyx, Oliver, you have to go to San Antonio, Texas. There are some people there who can help you."

"With what?" I asked.

"You'll find out soon enough," Missouri promised us. "As for you, Sam and Dean, you need to stay here, and continue looking for hunting job. Find out an alternative way to destroy the Demon, since you won't be getting the Colt anytime soon. Alyx will keep in touch, and tell you when she needs your help."

"This is crazy," Dad complained. "I don't know_ how _this is going to be effective."

"Do you _want_ to get rid of this demon or not?" Missouri asked mildly.

"_Of course_ I do!" Dad shouted. "I just don't see how separating all of us will get the job done."

"You won't be separated for long, Dean. Alyx needs to figure out some things on her own before she's ready to fight." Missouri declared. I shot her a look of pure confusion. What kind of things did I desperately _need_ to find out? Who was waiting in San Antonio for us? How would _they_ help? I knew that the path lying before Oliver and I was riddled with obstacles; this war was only going to get more complicated and treacherous.

Christmas usually isn't a huge deal in the Winchester household. It used to be, when I was younger and I kind of expected to have a normal holiday like every other family. This was before I grew up and I learned the secret family business. After I started hunting, I was extremely focused on every aspect of my training, so celebrating a traditional holiday wasn't that important anymore. But that didn't mean that we weren't as close as other families. I sort of knew that we weren't really into doing things the conventional way. I mean, Sammy and Dad tried for the first five or six years of my life to make holidays as ordinary as possible, for my benefit. But looking at it now, the whole "It's A Wonderful Life"-ish, Christmas celebration just did _not_ fit us.

So, you can clearly see that when Missouri called the day before Christmas Eve and told us that she was going to come over and cook a homemade Christmas dinner for us, we didn't know what to do. It was nice gesture, and we'd feel bad if we declined the offer, so we had no choice but to agree. Missouri's reasoning behind this was that we deserved to have at least one day of normalcy before Oliver and I had to leave, and our family had to be preoccupied with the war. Sam seemed grateful for Missouri's act of kindness, and I could tell that inside, he was glad to do something average for a change. Dad wasn't too excited about actually having to celebrate a real holiday besides someone's birthday; I think he was just happy that he was going to get some real, home-cooked food instead of a frozen meal from a cardboard box.

Dad's slight unhappiness was made a tad bit worse by my suggestion to invite Oliver to our little celebration. I knew Missouri would most likely bring him anyway, because he was still living at her house. I had an inkling that Dad wouldn't take to the idea very well. He flat-out told me 'no' the first two times I bugged him, then he said 'whatever' the third time. This holiday would be an interesting one. Hopefully Dad could coexist with Oliver peacefully.

The three of us were up at eight o'clock; Missouri came a half-hour later, with a car-full of items necessary to prepare our meal. Oliver was certainly dressed for the occasion, wearing a pair of khakis and a blue dress shirt that really brought out the color of his eyes. I guessed that Missouri had maybe forced him to ditch his ripped jeans and band tees for one day. As for me, I decided to get a little more presentable for the holiday, slipping into a purple quarter-length sleeved dress and a black cardigan sweater, and making sure I had my silver pentagram on. Although, these days I never took it off.

Once Oliver stepped inside from the cold and helped Missouri bring her bags into the kitchen, I stole a kiss from him and took his hand. We sat down on the couch to talk; even though Dad and Sam themselves were talking while Missouri cooked the meal, I knew that Dad was keeping a close eye on the two of us. We spent the afternoon talking and taking in the scent of the food cooking in the kitchen. It was nice to just relax for once.

At about four-thirty, an hour before dinner was finished, I was standing beside Oliver at the window in the living room, watching as a light snow fell, adding more to the already three or four feet that covered the ground. It looked so beautiful; so peaceful. I couldn't let it go to waste. I turned to Oliver, grabbing his hand with a grin on my face.

"Do you want to go play in the snow?" I asked, almost as excited as a little kid. Oliver looked at me like I was kidding.

"_What_?" he asked, half-laughing. "Play…out there? Are you serious?"

"Yeah," I answered. "C'mon, it'll be fun." I started tugging on his arm, but he wouldn't move. "_Please_, Oliver." He shook his head, so I totally pulled the puppy-dog look on him. After years of training from Sammy, I had it down perfectly. It's been proven effective, too.

Oliver heaved a sigh and looked at me with a smirk. "Okay. Fine."

Works _every_ time.

"You're awesome." I said cheerfully. I ran upstairs and pulled on a pair of pants under my dress. Oliver and I put on our heavy coats, hats, and boots and trudged out to the backyard, promising to be in for dinner. The adults watched us leaving, staring at us like we were insane. Walking hand-in-hand, we shuffled through the deep snow, pausing in the middle of the yard. I turned my face up to the sky, letting the small, white snowflakes cover me. I stuck my tongue out and twirled around in circles like a three-year-old while Oliver watched, laughing.

Next thing I knew, I got slugged in the side of the face with a snowball. I spun around to see my boyfriend doubled over with laughter. I glared at him.

"You are _so_ going to pay for that little boy." I warned, bending down and forming a snowball of my own. Oliver took off running, just to humor me.

"_Oooh_, I'm _so_ scared!" he shouted in this high-pitched, girly voice that made my burst out laughing. I never thought I'd hear that sort of imitation come out of his mouth. Seriously, it was the funniest thing I had ever heard.

We continued to chase each other all over the backyard, launching snowballs back and forth, our stomachs aching from laughing so hard. (Our hunger must've contributed to it, also.) I felt like a child again, not having a care in the world, just living in that moment. I never knew how much I missed that innocence until now.

Oliver grabbed me around the waist, and we ended up plopping down onto a hill of snow, trying to catch our breath. He placed his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him. We sat there for a moment, in silence, watching as the snow fell, feeling a sudden calmness in the air.

"You were right," Oliver said, grinning. "That was actually the most fun I've had in awhile."

"Told ya so," I replied smugly. "It's beautiful out here, isn't it? I can't remember the last time I sat out in the snow like this."

"Mm-hmm," Oliver mumbled, planting a soft kiss into my hair. "As long as we're out here," he announced, starting to fish something out of the pocket of his coat, "I want to give you your Christmas present."

"Oliver, you didn't have to—"

"Nah, it's okay. I wanted to, really," He handed me a small, black, velvety box that had a green and red ribbon tied around it. "Go ahead." Oliver encouraged. I slid the ribbon off, and opened the box slowly. Inside, there was a sterling silver ring; simple, yet beautiful and extremely thoughtful. "Look on the inside of the ring." He instructed. I took the ring out carefully and glanced at the inside of the band.

Engraved in the silver, in a flowing, neat script was the phrase '_Amor Vincit Omnia: Love Conquers All_'.

"Oh, Oliver, I love it! It's _so_ beautiful. Thank you." I said. He slipped the ring onto my finger, and I found that it actually fit perfectly.

"You won't forget now," he told me. "No matter what happens in this war, you won't ever forget how much I care about you, Alyx." I immediately wrapped him in a tight embrace, and kissed him on the cheek.

"I won't forget, Oliver. Ever. I promise." I whispered to him. He helped me to my feet, and we walked back into the house to enjoy the rest of the Christmas holiday.

**A/N: This was kind of a filler chapter, with a bit of Alyx/Oliver fluff mixed in. Not much, but it sets up the next part of the story.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Once again, I really don't own Supernatural, i only wish i did.**

I got up the morning after Christmas at about nine-thirty, to pack my bags for San Antonio. Oliver and I had made plans the previous day to leave at approximately eleven or so, and I still had a lot to do before then. I got dressed in jeans and a Led Zeppelin tee, and started rushing around my room, trying to shove clothes and personal items into backpacks and duffel bags. Dad came in an hour later, somewhat half asleep. He must've heard my radio, although I tried to keep the volume down as low as possible.

"Need any help?" Dad asked, watching as I folded up a pair of jeans on my bed. I had clothes and stuff spread everywhere, making my room an even bigger mess than it already was.

"Not right now, but thanks anyway," I replied, placing the jeans into one of my bags. However, Dad stayed in the room, even though I declined his offer. He approached my dresser, stepping over piles of junk on the floor. He paused, picking up a picture frame with a photo of the three of us in it. Dad considered it for a moment, then put it gently back. I knew he wasn't taking this too well. Me leaving, I mean. He was clearly concerned. Why shouldn't he be, though? As a father, he had every right to be worried. "I'll be all right, Dad. Really." I reassured him.

"I know, kiddo." He muttered, taking a seat on the edge of my bed, running a hand through his hair. I stopped what I was doing and sat down next to him.

"Believe me, with all the training you and Sam put me through over the years, I can handle anything." I smiled. Dad returned it, but only slightly.

"_Almost_ anything," he corrected me. "Everything _but_ the Demon."

Okay, so he had a point there.

"You've taught me the signs," I replied. "To know when it's coming, so I'm prepared."

"But the thought of you being out there when that thing is roaming around…" He said, a hint of anger in his voice. "I can't loose you."

"You won't," I said firmly, grabbing one of his strong hands with mine. "I'll be fine, Dad. I'll call, to let you know I'm safe. I _have_ to do this. Whatever's in Texas…it's important. It may be the key to ending all of this, for good."

"Promise me you won't go sacrificing your life or anything to get rid of this demon." Dad demanded seriously.

"_Why_ would I do a thing like _that_?" I asked, in a sort of teasing way.

"That idea seems to run in the family." Dad said.

"Alyx, Oliver's here." Sammy informed me, poking his head into the doorway.

"Thanks, Sammy. I'll be down in a minute." I said. He left, and Dad picked up my backpack and messenger bag, while I zipped up the duffel bag and took it with me. We went downstairs to the living room where Oliver was patiently waiting. I greeted him with a kiss, adjusting the duffel bag on my shoulder.

"All set?" he asked. I nodded, and turned to my dad and uncle.

"I guess this is it," I sighed. "Bye, Sammy." I gave him a tight hug, not really wanting to let go.

"Be careful, Ally." He told me.

"I will." I answered, as we broke apart. Dad pulled me to him, and we embraced for almost a full minute. I knew it would be the last time I saw either of them for awhile. Who knew when we'd meet up again? This wasn't like when I ran away to Missouri's. Then, I could go home whenever I wanted. This time, I had to stay on the road and do whatever needed to be done. Alone. Without their help—well, for some part of the journey, at least. That's when it dawned on me: this was technically my first hunt alone.

"Good luck, Alyx," Dad said. "See you soon."

Hopefully.

"Bye, Dad." I said, letting go of him.

"Take care of my daughter, you hear me?" Dad told Oliver.

"Yes, sir." Oliver replied.

"If anything happens to her, your ass is _mine_."

Oh, man. The look on Oliver's face after my dad said that was _priceless_.

Dad did something I never expected he would. He smirked at Oliver, and clapped him on the back. Seeing such a friendly gesture from my father toward my boyfriend made me smile. He and Oliver shook hands, and after saying a last goodbye, we left the house and put my stuff in the trunk of Oliver's car. We were taking his car because my dad did _not_ want me to use my Impala as a hunting car. I actually agreed with him on that one, because who knew what we'd be up against on the road? I wouldn't be a happy camper—and Dad would be furious—if my precious, midnight blue beauty was wrecked, stolen, filled with bullet holes, or blown up. You know, if that ever happened. I hope Oliver's car had some heavy-duty insurance coverage…

We got into the car, and drove off with Dad and Sam watching from the porch.

"How long will it take to get there?" I asked.

"About a day or so."

"Cool." I dug into my messenger bag that I chose to keep with me in the front seat, and whipped out a mixed CD with plenty of mullet rock on it. Luckily, Oliver and I were into the same music, so there wouldn't be a fight over what we listened to.

Unlike _some_ road trips…

I was used to spending long hours in the car, so I passed the time by reading books, listening to music, staring out the window, and talking to Oliver. We each took turns driving and sleeping in shifts so we wouldn't have to stop that much. We only made a few pit stops for food, bathroom breaks, and to fill up the car on gas. All in all, it took about two days to get to San Antonio, just as Oliver had predicted.

We stopped for the night at a crappy, but affordable motel. Grabbing our bags from the car, we went to the front office to rent out a room. An extremely bored looking girl in her early twenties sat behind the desk, chewing a piece of gum loudly and flipping through an issue of _People_. It was after Oliver cleared his throat that she looked up.

"What'd ya want?" she asked, staring at us, annoyed—as if we'd interrupted something important.

"One room, with _two_ beds, please." I specified.

"Yeah," the girl laughed slightly, "_Right_." I rolled my eyes and slid one of my fake credit cards across the counter. The girl put the card through the machine and handed it back to me, along with the key to our room. We picked up our bags and left.

"People sometimes," I muttered as we made our way to our room. "She automatically thought that just because we're teenagers and we got a motel room that we planned on sleeping together." Oliver put his arms around my waist, standing behind me. I slid the key into the door and pushed it open, shifting the duffel bag on my shoulder. The motel room was hideous. And let me tell you, I've seen enough ugly motel rooms to last me a lifetime. It was like a total time warp, for crying out loud. There was an ugly, puke-green carpet covering the floor, and the walls were brown; part of it was this nasty wood paneling. There was one, king sized bed—when I'd specifically asked for _two_ beds—with a disgusting mustard yellow and orange floral comforter.

In the kitchenette area, the table and chairs were orange and brown, and the small counter was covered in some type of patterned contact paper. I swear the only modern technological advances in the room were the television and coffee maker. I was _that_ bad.

"Bitchin'." Oliver said sarcastically, shutting the door. I rolled my eyes and threw my duffel bag and backpack onto the bed. Oliver set his things at the foot of the bed and kicked off his shoes and socks. I sat on the edge of the bed, digging through my belongings for pajamas while watching Oliver pull off his T-shirt.

Man, did he have some killer abs…_holy crap_. You could practically do laundry on those babies. _Damn_. He had nice biceps, too, I must say. He caught me checking him out and smirked. I, however, turned a shade of pink, slightly embarrassed, and continued searching for my clothes. I found a white tanktop and lime green and turquoise striped pajama boxers and retreated to the bathroom, which was almost as disturbing as the rest of the room. It had Pepto Bismol pink tiles on the walls and linoleum floor with a white, fluffy throw rug.

Eww.

I took a fast shower, changed, and exited the bathroom, drying my hair. I sat on the edge of the bed again, noticing that Oliver was lying comfortably on the bed, shirtless, flipping through the channels on the television. Not that I really minded him being shirtless, that is. I finished drying my hair and tossed the towel back into the bathroom. I slid into bed next to him, and we watched whatever crap was on TV at that unearthly hour.

I must've fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, I was sitting up in bed in a cold sweat as the clock hit 5:45 in the morning. I ran a hand through my damp hair, and glanced to my left to see that my boyfriend wasn't sleeping beside me. I looked over to the right, to see him standing beside the bed, holding a switchblade in his hand. His eyes were black with a hint of yellow, like they had been on the day of the exorcism.

Oliver tackled me onto the bed before I had any time to react. Using all of my strength, I shove him off me and climbed off the bed. He then threw me against the closed bathroom door, using his telekinesis. I rolled onto my back, and Oliver suddenly pounced on me, holding the blade close to my throat. Struggling under his weight, I looked him straight in the eye, and tried to get him to snap out of it.

"Oliver, stop," I said quite calmly. "Stop. This isn't you." I then managed to pin him down to the floor, using a tight grip on his wrists, and my knees to keep his legs in place. He thrashed a bit, groaning in anger, but I continued to hold him there. Finally, he stopped moving and stared at me. His eyes were still their eerie color; I tried to ignore the hate clearly evident in them, and coax him back to his normal self. "Oliver, it's me. It's Alyx." I told him softly.

"Alyx?" he asked in a scared tone, as his eyes returned to their original color. He looked like a frightened child. He let go of the switchblade that was in his grip, letting it drop to the floor, and I loosened my hold. I knelt beside him, and he sat up. He looked at me, then took my face in his hands, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "Alyx, I'm so sorry…" I wrapped him in a hug, resting my chin on his shoulder. "I don't know what happened." He whispered. "I think I blacked out. Did I hurt you?"

"No…no, I'm fine," I reassured him, rubbing his back soothingly. "It's okay."

"No, it's not. What if I end up killing you one of these times?"

"You can't. I'm a Healer, remember? I can't die as easily as…normal people."

"You don't know that for sure, Alyx," he said sadly. "Lately, I've been having bad dreams…where my father tells me to do horrible things…and these blackouts are only going to get worse. I had no control over what I was doing just now. It's getting harder and harder for me to fight it. I just don't want anything to happen to you, that's all." Tears were welling up in my eyes, but I didn't let them fall. What if I didn't save him? That would mean I had failed, and failure was not an option for me.

We were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the motel room door. Oliver and I shared a panicked glance, fearing it could be anyone, either and enemy or an ally. Just in case, I grabbed a pistol I had hidden in my things, and we both walked over to the door cautiously. I wrenched the door open to see a taller boy, maybe about eighteen, with shaggy, dirty blonde hair and sky blue eyes. His clothes were worn out and filthy; he kind of looked like a homeless person. Standing to his right was another boy with spiky, dark brown hair and hazel eyes. Behind them were two girls. One had long, red hair and brown eyes, and the other had brown hair with bright, purple streaks and green eyes.

"Can I help you?" I asked hesitantly.

"You won't be needing that," the boy said, referring to the pistol. "You're Alyx Winchester, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah," I said, suspicious at their presence. "How did you kn—"

"Let's just say we've been waiting quite awhile to meet you."


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.**

**A/N: Thanks to my readers and reviewers!**

**Lawrence, Kansas—General POV **

**1:00 A.M.**

Sam Winchester lay in bed, tossing and turning from the horrible images currently plaguing his dreams and a shooting pain in his head. He was able to wake up, and half-tumbling from the bed, got to his feet, messaging his temples. When he thought the pain had subsided, he was hit with another vision. Sam saw a woman with long, black hair and blue eyes—a woman he once knew and had been friends with at one point. He saw her having a verbal fight with the Demon in her home, and eventually being killed.

"Dean!" The younger Winchester shouted, running from his room, and down the stairs to the living room where he knew his older brother had fallen asleep in front of the TV. Dean was sprawled out on the couch, snoring. Sam shook him roughly, and he shot up, looking at him tiredly.

"What is it, Sam?" Dean asked. He read the worried expression on his younger sibling's face, and got the impression that he had seen something. "What did you see? Is it about Alyx? Is she okay?"

"It wasn't about Alyx," Sam replied. "It was about Lily."

"Lily Devereaux? Oliver's mother?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "I saw her being killed by the Demon."

"Which means the damn thing is in Lawrence," Dean said angrily, getting up from the couch. "That's why Missouri wanted Alyx and Oliver to leave so quickly—she knew it was coming, and she wanted them as far away from it as possible."

"And she probably wanted us here to fight it off; save Lily." Sam finished, as Dean was pulling on his leather jacket.

"Exactly," Dean agreed. "You have an address or something?" Sam nodded. He had seen the house in his vision. "All right. Let's get going."

**Two Hours Earlier…**

Lily Devereaux shuffled through the door of her small, suburban home, her arms weighed down with luggage. She had just finished a quick hunting job in the next town over, where she had battled a nasty, vengeful spirit. The fight had left her bruised and sore, not to mention exhausted. All she wanted to do was take a nice, warm bath to relieve her aching body, and sleep.

The house was quiet. She had expected it to be, since her son, Oliver, had moved out after their last fight. She hadn't heard from her son in over two weeks. She had spent the Christmas holiday alone and crying, trying to decide if it would be better this way. In the back of her mind, she had always resented the fact that Oliver was her son. There wasn't really a day that went by without her cursing that thing for using her, and leaving her to take care of _his_ child. Honestly, she didn't see how the boy could be hers. She didn't _want_ to. Raising him wasn't any picnic, either, especially when he hit his teens, and she had to tell him the truth about what he really was.

Lily dropped her bags onto the floor in the front hall and walked over to the living room, flicking on the light. To her horror, she saw someone already standing in the room, admiring the pictures on the mantel of the fireplace. She froze in her tracks, knowing exactly who it was. The man turned around, facing Lily with a sinister grin on his face.

"Lily," he said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants, "It's been _way_ too long…"

"Get out of my house." she demanded hotly.

"Now, is that any way to treat the love of your life?" he asked, stepping closer.

"I _don't_ love you."

"You did once." he reminded her.

"That was when I was young and stupid. You lied to me—you _used_ me!"

"I did what I had to, Lily."

"Ruining my life was a part of your plan, then? Leaving me with your evil spawn, and making your demonic buddies come tracking us all over the country?"

"I needed a way to keep an eye on my son," the Demon pointed out. "But I must say, you running to your psychic friend here in Lawrence actually helped me out."

"What?"

"Thanks to you, Oliver met Alyx Winchester. Now that they're madly in love with each other, that makes my job a bit easier," he answered. "All I have to do is get him to join me—which won't be that difficult, he'll give in soon enough—and Alyx will follow as well. Having her on my side will definitely be an advantage."

"Get out of here! Now!" Lily yelled, tears running down her face.

"I won't be needing your help anymore," he stated, and with a wave of his hand, sent Lily flying into a wall, pinning her there. "Unfortunately, I can't have you sticking around…you might tell someone about all of this."

"No…please…leave me alone!"

"Goodbye, Lily."

Sam and Dean pulled onto the street where Lily's house was located, and saw, even from far away, the red and blue flashing lights of the fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars. Dean parked the Impala across the street from the house, shaking his head, while Sam stared, speechless. The two brothers got out without a word, and walked over to the house. Surprisingly, there hadn't been a fire. They watched, bewildered, as a coroner emerged from the house, pushing a gurney with a body covered in a white sheet.

"Damn it." Dean half-shouted, looking away from the body—Lily's dead body—quickly. There was a police officer standing on the sidewalk, so they decided to approach him to ask some questions.

"Excuse me, officer, we're…friends with the woman who lives here. Can you tell us what happened?"

"We got a call a couple of hours ago, from a neighbor who said he heard screaming next door," the officer explained. " We found Miss Lily Devereaux dead in the living room of her home. It looked like someone had practically ripped her heart out of her chest. In all my years, I have _never_ seen anything like it." Sam felt Dean tense up beside him upon hearing that information. "Whoever did this isn't right in the head, that's for sure."

"You got that right." Dean muttered.

"Thank you, officer," Sam said. "All right, so what the hell are we going to do now?" He and Dean started to walk back to the car.

"Find some way to kill the thing. We're going to end this."

"Dean, we say that _every_ time we get close to killing the Demon, but we never actually go through with it."

"I mean it this time, Sam. We can't let it drag on like this."

**A/N: I know you're all going to hate me for leaving you hanging with the whole Alyx and Oliver situation, but I promise you'll find out about that next chapter!**

**P.S.—honestly, who cried during part 1 of the season finale? I totally did…**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own Supernatural. If I did, I wouldn't have done that to Sammy… :( lol**

**San Antonio, Texas—Alyx's POV**

I let the four teenagers in reluctantly. I wasn't sure that we could trust them—you can't trust anyone these days. Not with a supernatural war going on. These teenagers seemed pretty shady to me, with their dark, ragged clothing and whatnot. However, I wasn't going to judge them on appearances; they were the ones, I guessed, that Missouri said would help us…with something.

"I'm Aidan," The boy with blonde hair, who was most likely the oldest of the group, said, gesturing to himself. "This is Noah." He pointed to the other boy, who was sort of standing further away from the rest of us, his arms crossed over his chest, giving Oliver a very hostile look. "That's Thea." The girl with long, red hair waved, offering a smile. "And that's Violet." Violet, ironically, was the girl with the bright purple streaks in her hair. It seemed to me like she was the rebel of the group.

"_Please_, call me Vi," she told us. "I hate my parents for naming me after a freakin' flower." Aidan rolled his eyes at her.

"You must excuse her," Aidan said. "She never shuts her mouth." Violet, offended, made a face at him.

"So, why are you here? What can you help us with?" I asked, a little annoyed. "How do you even _know_ about me?"

"Who hasn't?" Thea asked, shrugging.

"Yeah, I mean, the Winchesters…they're some of the most badass hunters around," Violet smirked. "Totally hardcore."

"Listen, Alyx," Aidan said. "All four of us have been effected by the yellow-eyed demon. We all have abilities. We want this war to end as much as you do." He paused. "Me, Thea, Noah, Vi, and you…we're the second generation of 'special' children. The Demon wants us on his side—"

"No, Aidan, he doesn't want _us_, he wants _her_," Noah interrupted, stepping forward. He had been quiet up until now. "We're putting ourselves in danger by just being here. Who knows where that thing is? We're standing in the same room with his _son_!"

I really did not like this guy. He seemed like a real jerk.

"I _don't_ care if you think I'm a jerk, and I _don't_ care if you don't like me," Noah said, pointing a finger at me. I shot him a very confused look. "'Cause you know what, I'm not too fond of you either. Aidan, I don't know why the hell you dragged us out here to help her."

"He reads minds." Thea clarified.

"Oh." I answered, a bit surprised and annoyed again. They could've given me some kind of warning. I didn't like the idea of someone reading my thoughts—someone who I did not know. With Missouri, it was fine.

"Noah, just stop it, all right? Thea warned, frowning at him.

"But I don't understand _why_ we have to risk our lives to help her." Noah complained, persistent. Aidan ignored him and continued to address me.

"Alyx, the Demon _is_ after you, in particular, because of what you can do. He wants your power on _his_ side. Believe it or not, you're actually a threat to him."

"Because we share the same power? But why? I mean, I don't even really know how to use it…"

"Once you learn how to, though, he'll be worried."

Okay. This was…kind of weird. _Me_, a threat to one of the most powerful—if not the _most_ powerful—demons out there?

"I'm not so sure I _want_ to learn how to use it. It's not the most _pleasant_ thing to be able to do." I argued.

"You have to." Thea said.

"The fate of this war depends on it." Vi stated. It was the first serious comment that I heard come out of her mouth so far.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Alyx, you're the only one who can destroy the Demon." Aidan replied.

"_What_?" Oliver and I said at the same time.

"That's insane…how can _I_ possibly kill him _myself_?" I inquired.

"By using his own power against him," Aidan answered. "There's only one catch…he has to be in mortal form for it to work. If he's not, then you can only weaken him, and then use the Colt."

"But _he_ has the Colt…you weren't planning to get it back from him, were you?" I wondered.

"Not ourselves personally—that's suicide. We were thinking that maybe Oliver could get it, with him being related and all." Thea stated.

"And _how_ do you expect me to do that?" Oliver asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"But we don't know where he's hiding it, Aidan. How do expect to get the Colt when we don't even know where _he_ is, either?" Noah put in. "This is a crazy idea." He muttered.

"That's where you're wrong," Aidan said. "You see, Alyx, we've been tracking the Demon for the past year or so, paying attention to all of the signs. His next stop is right here in San Antonio. Early his morning, he was in Lawrence, Kansas. He's getting closer."

"Lawrence?" I asked, horrified. I immediately grabbed my cell phone from the bedside table, and started to walk out the door.

"Where are you going?" Aidan asked.

"I have to make a phone call," I replied. "I'll be right in." I opened up the door and stepped outside, so I could get better reception and have some privacy. With my fingers shaking, scared, I dialed our home phone number, praying to all that's holy that Dad and Sam were okay.

"Hello?" Dad asked groggily.

"Dad? Thank God you're all right. Is Uncle Sammy okay?"

"Yeah, kiddo…why? What's wrong?"

"I heard through the supernatural grapevine that the Demon attacked in Lawrence early this morning, and I was worried about you two."

"We're both fine," Dad assured me. "But Oliver's mother wasn't so lucky."

"He killed Oliver's mother?" I asked, shocked.

"Yeah," Dad replied solemnly. "Sam and I went over there after he had a vision…we were too late."

"That's horrible."

"How did you find out that the Demon was in Lawrence?" Dad wanted to know.

"Well, we found the people Missouri said would help us…actually they found _us_, but that's beside the point," I informed him. "They're a bunch of teenagers who have abilities, and they're hoping to help us stop the war."

"Are they legit?"

"They seem to be. But there's this one that I'm keeping a close eye on. He's just a tad bit on the shady side, if you ask me," I admitted. "Anyway, they told me some pretty insane stuff."

"Like what?"

"You're not going to like it…"

"Just tell me, Alyx."

"This kid, Aidan, he's like the leader. He said we're a part of the second generation of special children…and he said the Demon's after me most of all because of that power I have—you know, causing injuries—but I'm also a threat to him."

"A threat?" Dad asked, skeptically.

"Yeah. And that's not the craziest part. He said I'm the only one who can destroy the demon, because I can use his own power against him."

"You gotta be kidding me."

"No, sir. He seems totally serious about it, too."

"Just…don't get yourself into too much trouble, Alyx. Be careful. Don't do anything…stupid." I knew from the tone of his voice that he wasn't taking in this information too well, so I distinctly left out the part about us finding the Demon to get the Colt.

"I'll try not to."

"Okay. Call me when you need our help." Dad instructed.

"Will do. Tell Sammy I called."

"All right. Bye."

I hung up, breathing a sigh of relief. Everything was…well, partly okay in Lawrence. As for our situation in San Antonio, I wasn't so sure what we were getting ourselves into. I didn't know if this whacked-out, radical plan of theirs was going to work, but what other options did we have?

"So, where are we going to find the Demon in San Antonio?" I asked when I returned to the room.

"I'm not sure, but—" Aidan was cut off by Oliver.

"I, uh…had a dream earlier. Before I had that blackout," He said, to me, mostly. "The Demon, he was…holding some sort of meeting for his covenant, to make a plan for the next attack. He and a group of demons were in this abandoned warehouse…I think the street name was Jonesboro."

"The old Keller Factory," Vi recalled. "It's a few blocks from our apartment."

"This meeting was at night, I'm guessing?" Aidan asked.

"Yeah. Around ten, I think…I remember seeing the time." Oliver confirmed.

"Great. You two can come with us back to the apartment and stay there until ten." Aidan suggested.

"Wait. We can't just crash their meeting when a pack of demons are there," I protested. "It's too risky."

"It's a risk we'll have to take if we want to get the Colt, Alyx." Aidan replied.

"We don't even know if he'll have the Colt with him."

"Well, we have to try," Aidan said mildly. He was getting ticked off at me now. "We can't sit here and do nothing, especially when the Demon's so close."

I still didn't like this, but it looked like I had no choice. The 'gang' waited for us in their car while Oliver and I changed and packed up our stuff. We hopped into Oliver's car, and drove off, following behind them through town. They took us all the way onto the other side of town, in a darker, more run-down section. It didn't look too safe; it was a wonder how these teens ended up here. After arriving at the apartment building, we hauled our stuff out of the car and up five flights of stairs. The building was dirty, poorly lit, and smelled like mold. Their apartment was definitely way too small for four people to inhabit it at once; I didn't know how Oliver and I could stay there as well.

The walls of the apartment were covered in pictures, newspaper articles, post-it notes, and information printed off the computer. There were piles upon piles of books stacked in random places. All of which had to do with the supernatural. These kids were no joke. They were definitely trained to some extent. Were their parents hunters, too? Vi noticed that I was looking at the papers tacked onto the walls and approached me. Noah had retreated to another room, alone, and Thea and Aidan were busy talking to Oliver. About what I had no clue.

"Crazy, right?" she laughed.

"Not exactly. A little extreme, but well thought-out." I replied.

"It's all Aidan's handiwork," Vi said. "He's so set on killing this thing."

"I can understand that," I told her. "Aidan, he said that you were all effected by the Demon in some way?"

"Yeah, I guess we all have a story," Vi admitted. "I discovered two years ago that I could control electricity. My parents saw what I could do, and flipped out. They weren't so supportive. They kicked me out of the house because they were ashamed of me."

"I'm sorry."

"I guess they couldn't handle having a less-than-perfect daughter. I mean, I had a good life. My parents had money, I was happy, I had friends…and then, all of a sudden I'm some sort of freak. Anyway, Aidan found me while I was wandering the streets, and offered to help me. He told me the truth about…everything."

"What's Aidan's story?" I asked, curious.

"His mom was killed by the Demon when he was a baby. His father couldn't take care of him, so he was bounced around from foster home to foster home over the years. His power came earlier—when he was about ten or so he found out that he could freeze time—and when each foster family found out about it, they didn't know what to do with him. Well, it was because of his ability and his fascination with the supernatural. He said he's been into that stuff ever since he was a kid." Vi paused. "As for Noah, his father was a hunter, who was killed a couple of months ago by the Demon. His mother abandoned him and his father when he was young. That's why he's got such a bad attitude all of the time."

"And Thea?" I questioned.

"Thea's parents were both hunters. They went on a hunt looking for the Demon a year ago, and never came back. She discovered her ability just before her parents left. She can astral-project herself. Meaning, she can leave her body and be two places at once."

"That's horrible…what happened to her parents."

"This is why we're counting on you to end this, Alyx. So no one else has to suffer because of the Demon's actions."

Nothing like a little pressure, right?


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I _do_ own Alyx, Oliver, Aidan, Thea, Noah, and Violet…**

**A/N: Just to let you all know, I'm planning to make a side story about moments in Alyx's childhood, so look for that sometime in the near future. I don't know how much updating I'm going to be doing with exams coming up…my schedule's a little crazy right now, but I'll try my best!**

It was a quarter to ten at night; all six of us were crowded in the living room, the small apartment smelling of Spaghetti-O's and grilled cheese sandwiches, which we were eating off paper plates. It wasn't much, but it was a meal. I was surprised that they could find enough food in the place to feed the whole group. Everyone was talking, laughing, sharing stories, and basically having a good time. It was like a party—only I wasn't having too much fun. How could they be so carefree at the moment, when there was a demonic war waging, and we were about to head into enemy lines?

The news of Lily Devereaux's death, and this whole war situation, was bothering me. The fact that I hadn't told Oliver about his mother was effecting me as well. I didn't know how to break it to him; it wasn't the kind of news that you wanted to give someone. I knew Oliver wasn't all that close to Lily, and she didn't like him very much, but they were still family. He'd still be heartbroken, especially to learn that his father was to blame for the murder.

Oliver must've noticed my foul mood—he wasn't happy, either, considering he was going to play a huge part in the plan tonight—because he got up and walked over, placing a hand on my shoulder. He looked at me, his face showing concern.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked. "Something wrong?" I sighed, getting to my feet.

It was now or never.

"I need to talk to you."

"All right," he answered. We stepped into the kitchen, and sat down at the table. My hands were shaking. I really, _really_ did not want to do this. "What is it, Alyx?"

"You know that attack in Lawrence Aidan mentioned?"

"Yeah. Why? Something happen to your dad or uncle?"

"No, they're fine. Sam…he had a vision about it. He and my dad went to try and stop it, but they were too late," I explained, my voice shaking. "It was your mom, Oliver. The Demon…he killed your mother." In that moment, I saw all of the color drain from his face. He had a blank expression; he didn't know what to say. It broke my heart to see his reaction.

"You-you're sure it was her?" he inquired. I nodded slowly.

"I'm so sorry, Oliver," I answered, putting my hand on top of his. "I don't know why he would do this."

"I do," he said, anger evident in his voice. "She was just another person in his way. He knew getting rid of her would put him closer to me—to us."

"Do you think we're doing the right thing…trying to get the Colt?"

"We don't have much of a choice."

"Do you really think you'll get it?"

"I'll try. Besides, I have a bone to pick with him now," he reminded me. "Everything will work out in the end, Alyx." We kissed as Violet, of all people, entered the kitchen.

"And _what_ are you two lovebirds doing in here?" she joked, wiggling her eyebrows up and down suggestively. Oliver looked at each other and shrugged. Violet shook her head, rolling her eyes.

"Um…nothing." I lied.

"_Riiight_," Violet said sarcastically. "So, I was just _imagining_ you two swapping spit?"

"Aidan was right—you _really_ don't shut up, do you?" Oliver asked. Vi smacked him in the arm.

"_Anyway_, I was coming in here to tell you to get ready. Aidan said we have to leave soon."

"Thanks, Vi." I said.

"No problem."

Oliver and I followed Vi back into the living room, where Aidan, Thea, and Noah were gearing up for the sneak attack. I went over to my small duffel bag of assorted arsenal, and started pulling weapons out. I handed Oliver a gun, and tucked another in the back of my jeans, near the small of my back. I placed a flask of holy water into the pocket of my leather jacket, and a knife in my boot.

"Ready?" Oliver asked me.

"Shouldn't I be asking _you_ that?" I countered. He was, after all, the one actually going after the gun. He shrugged. As soon as everyone was armed, we left the building and got into cars. Oliver and I climbed into his car, and the four others went in Aidan's car. We followed behind Aidan, who knew exactly where the old warehouse was located. It was about nine or ten blocks from the apartment building, as Vi had pointed out earlier.

We parked the cars a good block away, so we didn't look too suspicious. The six of us started to walk cautiously to the warehouse, as it began to rain. When we reached the building, it was absolutely down pouring, and we could hear rumbles of thunder in the distance.

The old Keller Factory was a massive brick building, four stories high, with huge, rusted double-doors in the front, which had long been locked. There were many broken, dirty windows, and the brick was crumbling slightly. There was even a 'No Trespassing' sign posted on the front gate.

Like _that_ was going to keep us out. _Please_.

I knew I could most likely pick the lock with ease, but Aidan didn't want to take a chance with the door making too much noise, so we found a fire escape on the side of the building, which we took up to the second floor. Noah was able to open up the window after struggling a bit. The window hadn't been opened in over two decades, so they were a little stuck. We climbed through, keeping our eyes peeled for anything. Walking slowly, alertly, we made our way out of the room we were in and into the hallway, staying pressed up against the walls.

"You hear that?" Thea whispered. Her voice was coming from behind me; it was incredibly dark in the hallway, so we couldn't see a damn thing. We all listened closely, holding our breath. I could hear voices echoing from a room down the hall; sound traveled far in such a deserted place.

"This way," Aidan whispered. "Be quiet." The group of us practically tiptoed the rest of the way, approaching the room where the voices were coming from. Noah placed his back up against the wall, and stole a glance in.

"They're in the middle of the room," Noah said quietly. "The Demon…and about…six others." Even in the dark, I could see Aidan grimace.

"Well, if worse comes to worst, at least it'll be a fair fight." He pointed out.

"Not funny." Thea complained.

"Okay, here's what we'll do," Aidan announced. "We'll go in first—it's dark, so try to stay in the shadows—and hide ourselves around the room. Oliver, stay out here, and wait a few minutes before going in. Got it?" We all murmured a 'yes' in response. As everyone started filing in, I hung back for a moment.

"I don't know what's going to happen," I said to Oliver, grabbing his hand briefly, "But please, just be careful, all right? The Demon, he might try to turn you, or something."

"I promise I'll be careful." Oliver whispered back. I stole one last kiss from him before stepping inside. I stayed in the back, where it was darker, and tried not to make noise while I walked. (Which isn't so easy when your wearing wet combat boots.) I hid behind a large, steel support beam, taking some deep breaths to calm myself down. I saw the Demon standing in the center of the room; he was currently disguised as a middle-aged guy with graying hair. Around him where six of his covenant members; probably the few who were the more important ones, out of the many hundreds out there. They were obviously plotting something. I really did not want to hear whatever sadistic plan of world domination that they had up their sleeves…

A long, tense minute passed. I had a feeling that everyone else was on pins and needles, waiting for Oliver to make his entrance and set this crazy scheme of ours in motion. If Dad or Sam saw what I was doing right now, I'd be grounded for life. That's why I had conveniently left out those details in my last call.

Oliver finally strolled in, acting casual, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his faded jeans. He looked pretty confident for someone who was just waltzing up to the enemy. But then again, the enemy _was_ his father. The Demon immediately paused upon seeing Oliver. The demons congregated around him parted, wearing shocked expressions. I guess that reaction was expected, since Oliver had never formally met his father. As for the other demons, they were probably shocked to be standing in the same vicinity as the Demon's half-mortal 'heir'—as that ghost/demon chick had put it previously.

"Well, well, well…Oliver, I didn't expect you to show tonight." The Demon said.

I had kind of expected their first meeting to be a little more profound, but I guess family reunions aren't anything special to demons.

"I figured that dream was an indication that you needed me to come."

"Ah, smart boy," the Demon praised. "And what about Miss Winchester?"

My heart caught in my throat upon hearing my name come out of that monster's mouth. It made me cringe big time.

"She doesn't know I'm here."

"You're _absolutely_ sure she had _no_ idea?"

"Not a clue."

Oliver is a _very_ good liar. I couldn't believe the Demon was buying all of this.

"Good," the Demon said with a wicked grin. "Because we'll need your help convincing her to join us."

He was so unbelievably desperate to have me on his side, it was ridiculous. Was I _really_ that much of a threat?

I had remained glued to the cold steel, but now I wanted to chance a peek at the scene playing out, so I moved over to a closer support beam. That way, I could have a better view of what was going on. I wondered if I could locate the Colt. The Demon happened to move a certain way; that's when I saw it. The Colt was hooked in some way onto his belt, partially hidden beneath his jacket.

_How_ the hell was he going to get that?

Knowing Oliver, and whatever powers he had, he would find a way. Somehow. He had to, 'cause I wasn't too keen on trying to pull off the alternative plan. You know, the one that involves me facing and killing the Demon _myself_.

Oliver had seen the Colt. I could tell because he was absent-mindedly eyeing it from where he stood.

"What do you need me to do?" Oliver asked, still keeping an eye on the gun, without looking too conspicuous.

"I don't care," the Demon replied. "Do whatever it takes. I'm counting on you, son." The word 'son' came out awkwardly, I noticed. Oliver looked surprised, and maybe ashamed to be addressed in such a way.

"Yes…sir." Oliver answered, concentrating his focus on the Colt for a moment.

The Colt disappeared. I'm not even kidding. I mean, it was there one second, and gone the next. I _knew_ Oliver had some kind of trick planned. However, I was too quick to celebrate and have the very naïve notion that we were in the clear. Because the gun suddenly reappeared on the floor at Oliver's feet, in plain sight. I'm guessing that wasn't supposed to happen…

Oliver and his father just stared at it. Oliver wore a panicked expression, knowing he was in deep trouble. We all were now. The Demon seemed amused, in an odd, sort of sick way.

"So," he said, stepping closer to his son, "You came in here thinking you could pull something on me…trick your old man…" The Demon was gazing at the Colt, lying on the floor for the taking. "Foolish boy. I may be old, but I'm not stupid." Before the Demon could make a move toward the gun, Oliver picked it up in a lightning fast motion.

"Alyx!" he yelled. I instantly jumped out from behind the support beam, ready to help him out. He threw the gun at me and I caught it, luckily. I gawked at it, awestruck to be holding it in my hands. But then I took off running once I realized I had the most sought-after weapon in my possession—well, it was until I learned _I_ was that 'weapon'—and the Demon's evil henchmen weren't too happy about it. The others followed me, but Oliver stayed. I paused in the middle of the hallway, letting Thea, Noah, and Vi pass. Aidan practically ran into me, stopping to grab me by the sleeve of my jacket.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Aidan shouted, as I tucked the Colt safely into a pocket in the inside of my jacket.

"Oliver—"

"There's no time! He'll catch up! Unless you want to get your ass kicked, I suggest you run!" We could hear the group of demons' footsteps racing our way.

"But—"

Aidan took hold of my wrist, and dragged me along. We sprinted to the room where we had entered the building and down the fire escape into the pouring rain. We started running to the cars, with the pack of demons on our tails. I had driven Oliver's car to the warehouse, so I already had the keys. Vi jumped into Oliver's car and Thea and Noah went with Aidan. I drove off quickly, still following behind Aidan. Vi and I watched in the side mirrors as the demons got into two cars to chase after us.

Great. Now, we had to get involved in car chase. I really wished I had the Impala…that thing is a beast when it comes to out-running enemies.

Vi got a call on her cell; she picked it up, her hands shaking from the severity of the situation we had gotten ourselves into. She muttered a few responses, and hung up.

"That was Aidan," she explained. "He wants us to split up once we get to the intersection." The intersection was at the next light. As soon as we reached it, though, it turned red. I knew we didn't have time to wait for it to change, so I blew through it and turned right. Good thing there weren't any cops around. I was driving without a license…well, without a _real_ license, anyway.

I sped down a few side streets, hoping to lose the car that was after us. I turned onto another main road, having no idea where the heck I was heading. I picked up speed, but the car of demons did so as well. They were getting closer, which wasn't good because the road we were on was busy for this time of night. I started weaving in between cars, switching lanes like crazy. Everyone on the road was beeping at me, but I ignored them. The demons weren't that far behind; no matter what I did, it wasn't enough to put a considerable amount of distance between the two cars.

"What the hell are you doing?" Vi yelled, bracing herself against the passenger's seat as I continued to maneuver in and out of traffic with the demons still on our tail.

"Trying to loose them," I explained. "Which isn't working as well as I had hoped. They just don't let up, do they?"

"Apparently not," Vi replied. I turned down another side street. "They have good reason not to…we _do_ have something of theirs." Suddenly, things started hitting and bouncing off the car. Over the drenching rain and roaring thunder, it sounded like metal against metal.

"Are they _shooting_ at us?" I inquired. Vi glanced back, to see one of the demons steering the car, and the other firing a gun out the passenger's side window.

"Yep."

"Of _course_ they are," I muttered. "Well, this is just _peachy_." A bullet hit one of the side windows, shattering it completely. "Son of a bitch!" I shouted, as the damn demon continued to destroy Oliver's car. I was thankful we hadn't taken my baby instead. The demon blew out the other side window, as well as one of the back tires. To add to our problems, we were running out of gas. I knew the car wasn't going to last much longer. Another bullet hit a front tire, causing the car to suddenly swerve out of control. Violet and I held on for dear life as the car did a 360 and slammed into a fire hydrant, causing water to erupt from it.

We scrambled out of the car, getting away without any injuries. We had no choice but to continue the chase on foot. Vi and I sprinted as fast as our legs could carry us, reaching the main street we had been driving on before we turned. We kept to the shadows, using alleys and back lots to get from place to place. The demons were on our heels, now shooting at us. I got out my gun and started firing back, knowing a bullet didn't effect them very much, but it would hopefully slow them down. Thea pulled me into an alley, since she was receiving another call from Aidan. She shouted a few 'okays' and slammed the phone shut.

"Their car got trashed! They're heading this way!" Vi informed me. The shots were very near to us; we had to find another hiding spot. We began running again, when we heard another sound amongst the gunshots, rain, and thunder.

Sirens. Someone had called the police.

**At the Keller Factory—General POV**

"Thought you'd pull this off and get away with it, didn't you, son?" The Demon asked, circling Oliver in a menacing way; staring him down.

"I am _not_ your son."

"Oh, but you are. You can't deny it, Oliver. You'll always be my boy no matter what."

"How can you call me you son? _How_? You're not a father. You weren't there for me, ever. Not once. Until now, I had never even met you. And you know what? I'm glad it turned out this way. I wouldn't want you in my life. I want _nothing_ to do with you."

"Oliver, you're the heir to this covenant…you can have it all. You, and Alyx. All you have to do is a little favor for me."

"I'm not getting Alyx to join you in destroying the world. As far as I'm concerned, you're the enemy, and I'm going to do all that I can to stop you." Oliver told him forcefully.

"Well, then you leave me no choice," The Demon answered, his eyes suddenly glowing an eerie yellow. "If you won't do it voluntarily, I'll just have to make you do it, now won't I?" Oliver's eyes grew wide, dreading what his father was going to do to him. The Demon concentrated on him, and Oliver instantly felt a sharp pain in his forehead, like an extremely nasty migraine, only ten times worse. He massaged his temples, wishing for it to end. He dropped to his knees onto the cold cement floor, wailing in pain, horrible images of fire, death, pain, and suffering filling his mind…

Lawrence, Kansas—General POV

Sam Winchester sat on the couch of the living room in their small home, flipping through the channels on the TV. It was late at night, and there was nothing but crap on, as usual. Dean was in the kitchen, making himself something to eat. Sam was about to turn off the TV and search for a good horror flick, when a breaking story on a news station caught his eye. Two anchors—a male and a female—were reporting the story that was currently unfolding.

"Again, this is breaking news. We have just received word that police are currently after a group of five teenagers in San Antonio, Texas. The teenagers were involved in a large-scale car chase through the city, along with two other, unidentified cars. The authorities believe it may be some kind of gang-related fight," the woman said. "Police received calls from people hearing gunshots, and citizens who were out at that time say they saw speeding cars driving recklessly down main roads and residential streets. The teens are believed to be armed and dangerous…"

Sam sat up quickly, his eyes wide. He could not believe what he was seeing. Could Alyx possibly be involved in this?

"Dean!"

"What?" Dean asked, irritated, entering the living room with a sandwich in his hands, and talking with a mouth full of food.

"You might want to take a look at this…" Sam advised. He turned up the volume on the TV, and Dean sat down in a chair to see what his brother was so concerned about. He read the headlines and listened to the incoming information, bewildered.

"You don't think…?" Dean wondered.

"I don't know, Dean. It can't be just a coincidence that something _this_ big is happening in San Antonio, where Alyx is." Dean grabbed the house phone, and immediately dialed Alyx's cell number.

"She's not answering…" He said. He slammed the phone back into the receiver, and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Sam questioned.

"_We_ are going to San Antonio. _Now_."

**San Antonio, Texas—Alyx's POV**

The five of us had met up, and were still on the run. However, it wasn't the demons we were trying to escape now. They had mysteriously disappeared as soon as the police started chasing us. The authorities—four police cars—were hot on our trail. We heard their sirens approaching; the flashing lights just visible down the street. We knew we weren't going to be able to run for much longer; we were getting tired.All of a sudden, another cop car came speeding down the street we were about to cross, coming to a screeching halt on the corner where we stood. We panicked for a second, then started sprinting the opposite way, where the four other cop cars were coming from. The cops from the car on the corner got out and began chasing us on foot. They had us almost surrounded.

We turned into an alley, willing our tired legs to go further. Thea slipped and fell to the ground, her worn-out body shaking from the cold and exhaustion. I bent down to help her get back on her feet, telling the others to keep going. Thea leaned on me for support, her ankle probably twisted from the fall. We pressed on, reaching a back lot, where Aidan was waiting. Noah and Vi were in the shadow of a building, hunched over, trying to catch their breath for a short moment. We heard the police shouting, coming this way. I helped Thea over to Aidan, and he grabbed her around the waist, letting her lean against him.

"Get moving!" I yelled to him. He looked confused.

"_What_? What about you?" he asked.

"Just get outta here…they can get me so you guys can hopefully have enough time to get away." I explained.

"You're going to give up?"

"I wouldn't call it giving up, per say. Making a friendly sacrifice is more like it. Now, get your asses out of here!" I shouted.

"You're crazy, Winchester!" Aidan yelled, half-laughing, as he and the rest of the group started running across the back lot and into the darkness. I stood in the middle of the empty parking lot, soaking wet and shivering. A cop appeared a second later, armed with a gun. I made it look like I was going to take off on him again, as more boys in blue entered the abandoned lot, moving in the direction where Aidan and his crew had disappeared. I had a feeling they weren't going to make it any further. I hated to admit it, but we were all going to be arrested. Who knew that we'd be taken down by the authorities—of all people—instead of our demonic enemies?

"Get down on your knees, now! Hands behind your head!" the cop shouted, pointing the gun at me. With a sigh, I obeyed, dropping onto my knees—in a puddle, no less—and placed my hands behind my head, feeling very miserable. I was better than this…how could I be so _stupid_ to voluntarily let myself be arrested?

The cop placed his gun back into his holster, and came over. He grabbed me by the arm, and pulled me to my feet. The cop walked me out of the lot and through the alley, to one of the police cars that were parked on the street. He pushed me face down onto the hood of the car, pulled my arms roughly behind my back, and handcuffed me.

"Little girl, you are under arrest." He declared, before reading me my rights.

I knew this wasn't good. I could escape from anything supernatural. You name it, I can outsmart it…most of the time. But authority figures? Not so much. I was about to get a taste of a new kind of evil…


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I don't own, just borrowing for entertainment purposes. I don't own the 'Biker Bob' character, either. He belongs to Meg Cabot, author of the Mediator series.**

They have the Colt.

That's all I could think as I sat on the dirty, cement floor of the jail cell, my knees drawn up to my chest, my face in my hands. I was dripping wet, cold, and just plain miserable. Aidan, Thea, Noah and Vi were sitting on the floor by a wooden bench; avoiding the two other criminals we were sharing the space with. The first guy was a loner with ragged clothes, dark makeup, a ton of piercings, and a lime green Mohawk. The other dude was huskier, and had tattoos covering his large arms. He was wearing a motorcycle jacket, jeans, a black bandana, and shades. He had a handlebar mustache, and a buzz cut under the bandana. I, meanwhile, had situated myself away from the rest of our juvenile delinquent group, trying to do some heavy-duty thinking.

_The _police_ have the Colt. _

Damn them. We had risked our lives to get that gun. Oliver—wherever he was at this moment in time—had confronted his father to get it for us. It was one of the most powerful weapons in the supernatural world. And now the authorities had it in their possession, completely oblivious to what it actually was. What were they going to do with it? Put it away in some storage place, under lock and key? If they did, at least the demons wouldn't be able to get it back. However, it didn't do us any good not knowing where it was.

All I knew was that I _had_ to get it back.

I screwed up royally on my very first hunt alone. What a _great_ hunter I am. I have years and years of training, and I end up landing myself in jail. I had to fix this mistake somehow, before things got…

Well, worse than they already were.

"What's a pretty little lady like you done to get yourself in here?" A voice asked. I looked up to see Biker Bob standing over me. For such an intimidating man, he didn't seem too bad. Not yet, at least.

"Stupidity." I muttered.

"You don't look stupid to me." He replied, crouching down to my level.

"Well, then let's just say I made a horrible mistake."

"Is that it? Everyone makes mistakes. It's all a part of our human nature, is all. We make mistakes just ta learn from 'em."

I never expected to get such a wise statement from a Hell's Angel.

Biker Bob lifted up his shades, and regarded me for a moment. "You seem familiar…it's not that I've seen ya before, but maybe heard of ya…somewhere…"

"Maybe. I mean, me and my friends were plastered all over the TV because of the car chase."

"Miss Winchester." A new voice called. My head shot up to see a cop standing by the cell, keys in his hand.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Police want to question you."

Lovely. This was kind of a 'been there, done that' thing. Key words being 'kind of'. I had been interrogated before, on the night of Kylie's death. But this time, I was the criminal. I rolled my eyes and got up, walking to the cell door. Vi whispered a 'good luck' to me as I left. The cop handcuffed me again, and led me down a few halls to an interrogation room. He opened up the door, and I stepped inside and took a seat at the table. The cop stood in the room until the door opened again, and a tall, African American man entered, wearing a suit under an FBI coat.

Crap. The FBI? This was _definitely_ not good. I had lied to plenty of cops in my short lifetime, but not a FBI agent. With my luck, he wouldn't believe me at all.

"Miss Alyx Winchester," he greeted, taking a seat across from me, setting the folder and bag her had carried in on the table. "My name is Victor Hendrickson."

I didn't say a word. The last thing I wanted to do was be questioned by a freaking FBI agent. Seriously, could this get _any_ worse?

"You've made quite a record for yourself, Alyx…and your only sixteen," he stated. "Car chases, speeding, driving with a fake license, destroying public property, fake credit cards, desecrating graves…"

How did he know about those? What, was he some kind of psycho stalker?

Reading my shocked expression, he laughed. "Yes, Alyx, we know everything. I know a lot about your family, in fact."

"Oh, _please_…do tell." I replied, leaning in closer.

"Well, you were raised by your father, Dean, and uncle, Sam. Your mother, Jo, died when you were a baby. You know, it's weird…there seems to be a number of deaths in your family." Hendrickson mused.

"Don't I know it." I muttered.

"It's sad, really, that your Daddy's got you following in his footsteps."

"What?"

"Your father and I go way back, Alyx," Hendrickson explained. "He probably neglected to inform you about some of his dirty little secrets."

"Such as?"

"Dean Winchester is a _murderer_. He killed women in St. Louis, Alyx. Last time I saw him, he ended up breaking out of jail with your uncle."

Dad, a murderer? Yeah, he killed supernatural creatures, but he wouldn't kill another human being. Wait…St. Louis…wasn't that the Shapeshifter gig he told me about once? The one where the thing turned into him?

Ah. Now I get it…Hendrickson, what a dumbass. He got it all wrong…

"My dad didn't kill anyone."

"And I suppose your dear old grandpa didn't do anything wrong, either? Or your mother? They've been mixed up in some things as well."

Okay, now this guy was _really_ pissing me off. You do _not_ insult a Winchester and get away with it. Especially deceased members of our family. That was incredibly low.

"You don't know _anything_ about us," I said, furious, getting to my feet. "So, I'd shut up and stop talking bad about my family if I were you."

"Sit down, Miss Winchester," Hendrickson advised. "We're not done yet." He opened up the bag he had brought with him, and pulled out a plastic bag. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell this is."

In the plastic, zip-lock bag was the Colt.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural…just borrowing. A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews! I appreciate everyone's kind words!

The Colt was lying on the table, in the plastic bag, right in front of a FBI agent. I stared at it, going instantly into panic mode. Hendrickson was watching me, his hands folded calmly in front of him. I, meanwhile, was sweating bullets.

How was I going to explain _this_ to him? I couldn't tell him the truth. That went against the number one family rule to not tell anyone, _especially_ the authorities, about what we did. I had to make up some elaborate lie—and fast.

"I'm waiting, Miss Winchester." Hendrickson said.

This man was such a jerk. I had had about enough of him at this point.

"Your family's been involved in some pretty strange things, and I want to know the truth about all of this."

Crap, crap, crap. What was I going to do?

_Okay, maybe if I don't say anything, he'll ask enough questions to get sick of me._

"See, I had one of my buddies do a little research on this thing, and he found some unbelievably crazy stuff."

Research? He only had the gun for about an hour. Damn.

I didn't say a word. It was the only plan I had right now. If I didn't open up my mouth, he'd never find out about the family business.

"All of this insane talk about demons…he said this gun can supposedly kill things…things that aren't of this world. Do you believe any of this, Alyx? Is that what you think this gun is used for?"

What I _think_? I _know_ so. What I _think_ is that Hendrickson shouldn't be messing around in things he won't ever understand.

Hendrickson sighed. "Well, if you're not going to talk, then I have no choice but I keep you and your punk friends locked up." He scooped the Colt back into his bag, and ordered the cop to take me back to the cell. When I got there, Noah was sleeping, Thea was pretty close to falling asleep, and Vi and Aidan were talking with Biker Bob. Aidan motioned for me to come over, so I did, and took a seat on the ground beside them.

"Alyx, Bruce is a hunter…that's why he thought you were familiar." Aidan explained, keeping is voice quiet.

So that's his name. Oh, well…Bob…Bruce. Close enough.

"Yeah, I recognized the name…Winchester. I knew your granddaddy, John."

Jeez. Grandpa John had a lot of hunting buddies.

"We explained our—well, your—situation," Vi stated. "And he's conspired with us to help you."

"Help me _what_?"

"Escape." Vi whispered.

"_Me_? Don't you mean _us_?"

"We figured it would be better to just get _you_ out of here…you have your dad and uncle worrying about you. Besides, you're the one who has to destroy this demon." Aidan pointed out.

"But I can't just leave you all here."

"We'll be fine. Bruce'll help us spring ourselves out somehow."

"So…how are we going to do this?" I asked. "I don't even have the Colt."

"They'll have it stored in the evidence room down the hall. If we can get ya out of this cell, you can break in an' get it before ya leave." Bruce said.

"We all have powers, Alyx. We can pull this off. Vi can control electricity; she can shut off the power so it will be completely dark. I can stop time—everyone else will be effected by it except us—so that you can pick the lock of the cell, and get into the evidence room. I'll make sure you're out of the building before I return everything back to normal."

"I see you've put a lot of thought behind this." I observed. Vi nodded enthusiastically. Aidan stood and shook Noah awake, while I got Thea up, since she had finally fallen asleep. Vi explained the plan to them, and got ready to tap into her powers to shut off the electricity in the building.

She concentrated, her eyes shut tightly. The florescent lights on the ceiling above us began to flicker, and within moments, they went out, covering us in darkness. The entire building went black, sending everyone into a frenzy. Vi handed me a bobbypin from her hair, and I proceeded to pick the lock of the cell while no one could see us. Meanwhile, Aidan was concentrating on pausing time. With a mere flick of his wrist, all the action around us stopped, and an eerie silence fell. It was kind of creepy, to tell you the truth.

"I got it." I shouted, as soon as the cell door unlocked. I slid it open, and walked out, reluctant to venture onward. It would mean leaving my newly found friends behind.

"I'm going to miss you guys. Thanks for all your help." I said gratefully.

"No problem. But when you finally _do_ stop the Demon, make sure some of the credit goes to us." Aidan joked.

"Will do."

"Catch ya on the flip-side, Winchester," Vi smiled. "I'll meet up with ya someday, after all this chaos is over."

"Sounds like a plan." I agreed. With one last wave, I started to walk down the hallway, pausing briefly to swipe a flashlight from a cop. I turned it on and kept walking, searching each side of the hallway for the evidence room. When I found it, it was, of course, locked. I had kept Violet's bobbypin with me, knowing I'd run into that problem. Holding the flashlight under my arm, I was able to pick the lock with ease. I pushed the door open, and started to go through the boxes and filing cabinets in search of the gun. I found it in a box on the table, marked as 'Winchester: New Evidence'. I tore the top off and pulled it out; it was under a few papers, which contained the "research" Hendrickson's buddies had done. Quickly, I stuffed the Colt into the inside pocket of my leather jacket.

Not bothering to shut the door, or even remotely make the room look like it hadn't been broken into or raided, I bolted down the rest of the hallway and out of the building. I ran out into the chilly, early morning air, breathing a sigh of relief. I waited until I was a couple of blocks away from the station before I stopped running to catch my breath.

I was about to whip out my cell phone to call Dad to fill him in on what had taken place when everything went dark…


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I really don't own Supernatural, only Alyx and Oliver and a few others…

When I came to, I had a splitting headache. I was immediately perplexed, but then the memory of my last conscious moments came flooding back. It took me a second to focus my eyes and become aware of my surroundings. And let me tell you, the surroundings weren't good. I was lying in the backseat of a car, with my wrists bound together tightly with rope. The rope was cutting into my skin, which didn't feel too pleasant. Lifting my hands up as best I could, I patted down the pocket of my jacket and found that the Colt wasn't there.

_Great_. Just my luck. I go through all of that, and end up loosing the gun. Again.

But that wasn't the biggest shock. Oh, no. Not by a long shot. The surprise was the person driving the car that I was held captive in.

Oliver.

Doesn't it figure that it's my _boyfriend_ kidnapping me? Now I know what he was up to while I was stuck in jail dealing with asshole FBI agents. His father had gotten him to cross over to the demonic "dark side", which meant that my attempts to save him from his horrible fate and destroy the Demon were failing miserably.

"Good, you're awake," Oliver—the evil one, not the one I fell in love with—said, glancing at me through his rearview mirror. His eyes were black, with a hint of yellow, as they had been on the day of the exorcism. "We're almost there." Where exactly was he taking me? And what kind of sick, twisted plans did he have for me once we got there? I shuddered at the thought, surveying him cautiously as he drove.

"What happened to you?" I asked, already knowing some of the facts. But what I didn't know was _how _the Demon got him to turn so quickly.

"Nothing."

"Oh, _really_?"

"I'm perfectly fine, babe. I don't know what your problem is."

_Don't you 'babe' me, you psychopathic freak._

"What _are_ you and what have you done with my boyfriend?" I demanded.

"I _am_ your boyfriend. I _am_ Oliver. I just finally found out who I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to do. My destiny, Alyx. I have been so _screwed_ all of my life—my childhood was crap—and now…now I get the chance to be a part of something that's bigger than anything we've ever seen—to be a leader, Alyx. Get the respect I deserve."

"And you have to kill hundreds of people to achieve this?" I asked. "Murder _hunters_? Oliver, you were brought up to be a hunter. Your mother—"

"My mother had no idea what she was doing. She couldn't raise me. I don't know why she even bothered."

"She cared about you. She loved you. Lily gave you all of the things you wouldn't have received if your father raised you," I stated. "This isn't you, Oliver. This isn't what you want. The Oliver I knew isn't a power-hungry jerk who kills innocent people to get what he wants."

"I'm sorry, Alyx," he said sarcastically. "But the whole world-domination plot is sounding really good to me right now." He looked at me in the rearview mirror again. "Don't you understand? My father could help you use that power of yours, and you can help him in return."

"There's no way that I'd _ever_ help your father with _anything_," I said firmly. "He only wants me on his side because he's afraid of what I can do—he's afraid that I'll actually succeed in wasting him." I forced myself up to a sitting position. "And ya know what? The whole giving-your-father-what-he-deserves-by-killing-him plan is sounding _really_ good to _me_." I mocked.

That, somehow, got him to shut up. He stayed quiet the rest of the way to our destination. Which, I found out soon enough, was the exact same house from my dream.

Outside San Antonio, Texas—General POV 

Sam sat on the edge of the bed in the motel room that he and Dean were sharing, trying to shake off the effects of his latest vision. He rubbed his temples, waiting for the intense pain to finally fade. Meanwhile, Dean was pacing back and forth nervously, knowing somehow that the premonition had been about Alyx.

"What did you see?" Dean wanted know, once Sam looked up, signaling that the headache had disappeared.

"Alyx…she was in this abandoned house. Oliver had the Colt, but he wasn't himself. The Demon must've gotten a hold of him. He's targeting Alyx next." Sam said gravely.

"Did you get an address?"

"Yeah. Actually, it's not too far from here. If we hurry up—" Sam stopped mid-sentence, noticing that Dean was pulling on his leather jacket and was already halfway out the door.

"C'mon, Sam. We don't know how much time we have," Dean stated. Sam got up quickly, and grabbed the weapons bag off the floor, following his older brother out of the motel room. He threw the bag into the backseat and climbed in as Dean was starting up the Impala. "Try calling Alyx's cell."

Sam pulled out his cell phone and dialed Alyx's number, praying that his niece was all right. When he received her voice mail, he instantly got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"She's not answering."

"Damn it." Dean shouted, slamming his fist onto the steering wheel angrily. He immediately pressed his foot down on the accelerator, not caring whether he broke the speed limit. He was going to make it there in time; it wasn't too late. He'd be damned before he let that demon lay a single hand on his daughter.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or any of the plot of the season finale that I'm using to fit into the story. (Contains season finale spoilers!)**

We pulled into the driveway, parked, and Oliver got out. I stayed where I was, until he came around, wrenched open the back door, and dragged me out by the collar of my leather jacket. I ripped myself away from him, but he seized my wrists, holding them in a grip of iron. I tried to get away, but he only grabbed tighter, making the coarse rope cut into my skin further. He pushed me up onto the porch, kicked open the door, and dragged me inside the house.

As we walked through the house, I saw that there wasn't anything in it, except for a few broken pieces of furniture and tons of spider webs. The wallpaper and paint covering the walls was aged and chipping. The place smelled strongly of mildew and decay. I wouldn't be surprised if someone had died in the house—that was probably one of the causes of the combination of disgusting smells.

Oliver led me over to the basement door, which was slightly ajar. He threw it open, and shoved me forward. I tumbled all the way down the stairs, receiving bruises and a gash on my leg where I had scraped against a nail sticking out of the wood. I lay in a crumpled heap on the damp floor, listening to the old wood creaking under Oliver's weight as he descended downward.

"Get up." he ordered, kicking me. I forced myself to sit up, knowing that wasn't what he had meant. However, I didn't want to stand up yet after the nasty fall I had just taken. Oliver, seeing my defiance, bent down and slapped me across the face, giving me a bloody lip. "I said _get up_!" he yelled, pulling me roughly to my feet. Oliver grabbed my arm, dragged me to the center of the room, and threw me onto the floor again. I watched as he walked over to the table with the lit candles and took the Colt from the pocket of his jacket, placing it there. He ambled back over to me and started pacing back and forth.

"We could have it all, Alyx," he declared, persistent to get me to join him and his father in their world-dominating crusade. "Think about it. Your life with us would be so much better than the one you have with those hunters. Besides, hunters will cease to exist in the near future…as long as this war progresses." That's why we're going to _stop_ the Demon…I like my supernatural-hunting family, thank you very much. "We could get married, Alyx. Raise a few kids…"

"Yeah, maybe when I get my _real_ boyfriend back." I retorted.

"What are you talking about? I'm right here." He said, gesturing to himself.

"No. This isn't you…this isn't the Oliver I fell in love with," I stated, pulling the silver band he had given me off my finger, and holding it up. "You told me not to forget that you cared about me no matter what happened, and I'm keeping that promise. I just have to make you see that this isn't the path you want to take."

"That ring didn't mean _anything_." Oliver replied, suddenly acting like he didn't care about me anymore, when a minute ago he suggested that we could get married.

"_Yes_, it did. You _know_ it did. You're just too blinded by this whole idea of power that you don't remember what you said to me," I answered. "'Amor Vincit Omnia', Oliver. If you love me, then you'll fight this. I know you can."

"It's too late, Alyx. I've made up my mind."

"It doesn't have to be this way." I told him, suddenly hearing the distinct sound of the front door opening upstairs. It couldn't be the Demon, right? I mean, he doesn't exactly have to use doors…

Speaking of the Demon, I had to get out of this place before he decided to grace us with his presence. I had to escape. I made a quick choice—I knew I'd be able to get out by using my power on Oliver. He was still half-mortal, and therefore could be wounded.

Oliver had stopped pacing, and was now staring at me with his arms folded over his chest. I had to act now. I didn't know how well it would work, since I had only given someone a bloody nose. But I needed to give Oliver a wound that would slow him down so I could hightail it out of there before yellow eyes showed up. So, I opted to give him a deep gash on his leg.

"I'm sorry, Oliver." I muttered. He looked at me, confused. I concentrated, focusing all of my energy, willing my power to work to my advantage. I knew I'd succeeded when blood started to seep through Oliver's jeans, just below his knee. He winced and looked down at the fresh injury, surprised. He glanced at me, his jaw almost dropping to the floor out of shock. Before he could even come at me, I picked myself up off the floor, and ran up the stairs. The gash on my leg and my bloody lip had healed, but the bruises remained, so I was still sore.

I maneuvered through the house quickly, keeping my eyes peeled for the Demon, and trying to walk with my wrists bound in front of me. (Which is more difficult than you think.) I guess I wasn't paying too much attention—I was focused on escaping—because I collided with someone. For a fleeting moment, I thought it was either Oliver or the Demon…then I would be done for. However, when I looked up, I was totally relieved.

Dad was standing in front of me, with Sam standing behind him. They had come to my rescue, like many times before.

"Dad," I said, somewhat surprised to see them. "Sam." Dad seized my shoulders and examined me from head to toe, making sure I wasn't hurt too badly. Thankfully, most of my injuries had healed.

"You okay, kiddo?" Dad asked. I nodded, and he wrapped me in a tight hug.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see the two of you." I stated, as Dad let go of me.

"I think we have some idea," Dad answered. "C'mon, we gotta get our asses out of here."

Sam hooked his arm around my shoulders and guided me out of the house, with Dad following. Once we exited the house and I caught sight of the familiar black Impala, I grinned. I never thought I'd be so excited to see the thing. I crawled into the backseat, Sam got into the passenger's side, and Dad was obviously going to drive. When we got onto the main road, Sam took out his pocketknife and cut the rope that tied my hands together.

"How did you guys find me?" I asked, rubbing my sore wrists.

"We, uh, saw your car chase all over the TV," Sam replied. "So we left for San Antonio."

"Then Sam had a vision that Oliver kidnapped you," Dad finished. "How the _hell_ did you get involved in a car chase?"

I sighed, and began to explain everything to them. Aidan's plan to get the Colt, how we got caught and the pack of demons went after us, getting arrested, being questioned by Hendrickson—Dad wasn't too happy about that—and escaping from jail with everyone's help, including Bruce, the Hell's Angel/hunter. Then, I told them how Oliver knocked me out and kidnapped me, and how I used my power to escape from him.

"But I left the Colt there," I said, disappointed. I had gone through a lot to get it, and now the Demon's son had it in his possession. "I didn't have time to grab it before I escaped."

"That doesn't matter," Dad said. This statement caught me off guard. "All that matters is that you're safe, and here with us. We were worried sick about you."

We were about ten miles away from the abandoned house when Dad's cell phone rang. He picked it up, still keeping his eyes on the road. Sam and I listened as he gave a few responses that made me think the news wasn't good. Dad snapped his phone shut, cursing.

"That was Bobby. The Roadhouse was burned to the ground," Dad informed us. "Ash and some other hunters were killed." I bit my lip, trying not to let the tears come. Ash, although I had not seen him in well over two years, was always like an uncle to me. It upset me that the Demon had to take him as well.

"What about Ellen?" I asked. I never called her 'grandma' because she told me once that it made her feel too old. I hadn't seen her in over two years also, so I hoped she was all right.

"Bobby's not sure where she is," Dad said. "But she wasn't there at the time of the fire."

This war was just getting worse.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or any of the season finale plot I use to fit the story. Warning: contains season finale spoilers! A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed!

When we arrived at Bobby's, it was dark. I practically stumbled out of the car, half-asleep, rubbing my eyes. I hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in awhile, and the effects were beginning to catch up with me. We walked up to the door, and Sam knocked loudly, shouting Bobby's name.

Bobby appeared at the door in his usual attire, trucker hat and all. He looked pretty shaken up; I couldn't blame him, though. This war—this Demon—was putting everyone on edge, especially with his latest attack. The old hunter glanced around cautiously, and ushered us inside. As soon as I stepped through the door, I was met with the heat of the fire, which felt nice, considering it was freezing outside. The house was small, and somewhat cozy, if you could call it that. It was definitely a hunter's home, though. There were weapons on display throughout the house, different symbols of protection drawn skillfully on the walls, and salt lines laid out everywhere.

"Glad to see you all together…and in one piece." Bobby declared, as we followed him into the living room, where there were piles upon piles of books on any supernatural subject that you could ever think of. Bobby's house was the Mecca of paranormal information; he was definitely the 'go-to' guy.

"We're ready to fight this thing," Dad said. "Do you have any new leads?" Bobby walked over to a large table by the window, where a map was spread out. The three of us crowded around it, interested.

"Well, I found something, but I'm not sure what it means." Bobby told us.

"What is it?" Sam asked, his eyes filled with a sudden curiosity.

"Demonic omens," Bobby replied. "Like a friggin' tidal wave. Lightning storms, cattle deaths…out of nowhere. Except here. Southern Wyoming." He placed his finger on the map, circling the region in which he was speaking of. "It's totally clean. Almost like demons are surrounding it."

"And you don't know why?" I questioned. Bobby shook his head.

A hurried knock on the door made the four of us jump, caught completely off guard. We all glanced at each other, and then Dad and Bobby went over to answer it. Sam and I followed behind them. Bobby opened the door hesitantly.

Ellen was standing outside.

"Ellen." Dad and Bobby said simultaneously, both relieved. Ellen came in, and Bobby shut the door as Dad pulled her into an embrace. We were all visibly thankful that she had made it here safe and sound. Once Dad let go of Ellen, I ran to her and wrapped her in a hug, tears beginning to make their way down my face.

"Oh, Alyx…Sweet Pea…I'm so glad to see you." Ellen said, calling me by the nickname she had used ever since I was a little girl. Dad told me that my mother had called me Sweet Pea all the time when I was a baby; Ellen carried on the nickname after my mom died.

After Ellen and I broke apart, the group of us walked back to the living room. Bobby was getting out a flask of holy water. He poured some into a shot glass and gave it to Ellen. Ellen stared at it for a moment.

"Bobby, is this _really_ necessary?"

"It's holy water—shouldn't hurt." Bobby said. Ellen downed the glass without a problem, and handed it back to the old hunter.

"So, Ellen, what happened? How'd you get out?" Dad wanted to know.

"I wasn't supposed to," she confessed. "We ran out of pretzels, of all things. Dumb luck, let me tell you. I was out when Ash called to tell me to look in the safe." She paused, glancing at her hands for a second, holding back tears. "I was gone not more than fifteen minutes. I came back, and everyone was dead. Lot of good people there…lot of good hunters…all of them gone. I keep asking myself, _why me_? Why was _I_ the lucky one to live when so many others died?"

"Ash…" I muttered quietly. Ellen nodded sadly, and patted me on the shoulder out of understanding.

"You said something about a safe?" Sam noted. Ellen nodded.

"Demons get what was in it?" Bobby inquired.

"No." Ellen answered. She pulled out a map from her pocket, unfolded it, and spread it on the table over the other one. The map was of Wyoming; there were five X's on it, marked in thick, black marker. Bobby looked it over, then left the room shortly, returning with a book in his hands. He was scanning the pages, intrigued by a new discovery.

"What'd you find?" I asked.

"You're not gonna believe this. See those X's? Each one marks an abandoned frontier church—mid nineteenth century. All of them built by Samuel Colt."

"Wait. _Gun-making_ Samuel Colt?" Dad asked, as the new information sunk in.

"Yeah. It turns out that he also built private railway lines, connecting the churches." Bobby picked up a random marker lying on another table, buried partially beneath other items, and connected the X's. It formed a five-pointed star.

"A Devil's Trap." Sam observed.

"Iron lines," I recalled. "Demons can't cross them."

"Exactly." Bobby smirked, proud of my supernatural knowledge.

"I've never heard of anything that massive." Ellen stated, slightly shocked.

"No one has." Bobby agreed.

"All these years…and they haven't been broken? They still work?" Dad asked.

"Well, yeah. All of the omens Bobby was talking about…the demons must be circling it, and they can't get in." Sam pointed out.

"Yeah, but they're obviously trying to," I said. "What's in the center?"

"I checked," Dad declared, flipping through the pages of Bobby's book, "There's nothing but an old cowboy cemetery in the middle."

"But what's so important about it? What's Colt trying to protect?" I wondered.

"Unless…he was trying to keep something _in_." Dad suggested.

"Now, there's a comforting thought." Ellen replied sarcastically.

"Whatever it is, it's gotta be pretty damn important. I mean, the Demon can't even get through, right Bobby?" Sam questioned.

"It's too powerful. You'd practically need a bomb to destroy it. There's no way a full-blooded demon could get across it."

Then a startling realization hit me.

"No," I said slowly, "But I know who could…"


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural at all. I swear. A/N: I'm glad everyone likes my story! It makes me very happy that people actually read it and take the time to review!

Everyone crashed at Bobby's place after we figured out what was going on and what we needed to do. I knew that Oliver was the one who could get through the Devil's Trap and let the Demon in, since he was only half-blooded demon. I knew he'd carry out the task now, since he was totally under his father's control. We had made plans to leave for Wyoming the next day.

It was seven in the morning. I hadn't been able to sleep at all, despite how unbelievably exhausted I was. I was too preoccupied; too worried about the upcoming events and confrontations. Whatever was going to happen next, it was going to be big. And it would take all of us to battle it. I would possibly have to aid in killing the Demon by implementing my own powers, which I still wasn't too thrilled about.

I got up from the fold-out couch that I had spent the last few hours tossing and turning on, and ventured into the living room, padding around in bare feet. I was careful not to wake anyone. I walked over to the bookshelf—only containing a small portion of Bobby's collection—and scanned the old books. One in particular caught my eye; it didn't have a title running along the spine. It was red with gold accents, and larger than the rest of the books surrounding it. I pulled out carefully, blowing the dust off the cover. A whole cloud of dust flew into the air, and I waved my hand, trying to push the particles away. I discovered that the book was unmarked, but with some investigation, I concluded that it was a photo album. Curious, I settled myself Indian-style into a chair, setting the large album in my lap.

The first picture was of Grandpa John and Grandma Mary. They were standing in front of Dad and Sammy's childhood home; Grandpa John had his arm around Grandma Mary, and they were both smiling. I smiled in spite of it, slightly saddened at the fact that I had never met either one of them. There were a couple of pictures of just the two of them following that one, then I saw a picture of my grandparents with my Dad when he was a baby. The next picture after that was of my grandparents with a baby Sammy and my dad, who looked about three. It must've been before the fire, because all of the photos following that one were just of Grandpa John, Dad, and Sam, probably in between various hunts. There were also several pictures with Grandpa John and Bobby, and some of Bobby and my dad and Sam.

The picture after that set of photos was of Grandpa John and another man whom I did not recognize.

"That's your granddaddy, William Anthony Harvelle," Ellen's voice came softly from behind me, scaring me a bit. I looked up at her; she was standing behind me, glancing over my shoulder at the photos. "He died when your mother was just a child."

"Grandpa John knew him?" I asked.

"We'd known him for a long time," Ellen replied. "Since we were all in the same line of work."

I flipped through the next few pages, as Ellen and I glanced at the pictures of my mother, father, and uncle. There was one of my parents on their wedding day and a couple of them when they went on hunts together. The next set included me. There was one of me and my parents at the hospital after I was just born, and a few others from when I was an infant, before my mother's death. There was some of me throughout my childhood, like for instance, a picture of Ash and me from when I was five; I was sitting on his shoulders as he stood in the middle of the Roadhouse. The final picture was my favorite; it was the perfect way to end the photo album. I had my own copy of this particular photo that sat on my bedside table at home. I had found it in my dad's dresser and stole it when I was twelve. I've had it ever since.

We were all crowded around Dad's Impala. Dad was leaning against the hood, next to my mother, who was sitting on the hood with me in her arms. I was about two months old in the picture, according to Dad. Sam was on the other side of my mom and I, with Missouri standing beside him, and Bobby was standing next to Dad. Ellen was next to Missouri, and Ash was standing beside Bobby, making the rocker symbol with his hand. I always loved that picture. That was _my_ family; it's probably the most dysfunctional family you've ever heard of, but it's _my_ normal.

Ellen smiled and took the photo album from me, setting it gently back on the bookshelf. I stretched my tired muscles and got up from the chair. Ellen observed me accusingly.

"Have you slept at _all_, Sweet Pea?" she wanted to know. She crossed her arms over he chest and threw me a warning glance.

"Not really," I answered, trying to stifle a yawn. "I'll just sleep in the car on the way there."

And sleep I did. Well, not until after I helped Dad load his guns, and put all of the gear into the trunk of the Impala. Then, Ellen and Bobby went in Bobby's truck, and three of us Winchesters rode in the Impala, obviously. I settled myself in the backseat, resting my head against the windowpane. With the gentle motion of the car, and the soft hum of music coming from the radio, I was out like a light in a matter of minutes.

"_Alyx." A somewhat raspy, male voice called. I opened my eyes to discover a middle-aged man with graying, brown hair and a receding hairline sitting casually next to me in the backseat of the Impala. I had seen this man before. Shocked, I sat up sharply, noticing that Dad and Sam were carrying on a conversation in the front seat, as if nothing was wrong. But something was terribly, terribly wrong with this scenario. _

"_Dad? Sammy?" I asked frantically, poking my head in between the front seats. Neither of them answered me. It was if I wasn't there at all. The man sitting beside me laughed, his eyes flashing a frightening yellow. I stared at him in horror. _

"_They can't hear you," He declared. 'No duh, I kind of figured that one out by myself.' I thought angrily. I realized that I was still sleeping, and that this was just a dream, although it felt incredibly real. "You're stuck with me." Oh, how nice. Just what I've always wanted…to be trapped in my dreams with a psychotic demon. _

"You_." I said, venom lacing my words, "How the _hell_ did you get here?" This wasn't supposed be happening. I wasn't ready to confront him yet…not now… _

"_I have my ways." _

"_Well, I guess you're here to get me to join you, right? You're _still_ going to hound me about that after I specifically said 'no'? You demons just don't give up, do you?" I questioned, not believing that I was actually conversing with our enemy._

"_I'm giving you the choice now, Alyx. Think about it. Your destiny—" _

"_My _destiny_ doesn't include teaming up with you, ever. So _lay off_ and let me wake up." _

_He just laughed. Can you _believe_ that? He laughed. And I found that quite creepy…_

General POV

Sam and Dean were sitting in the front seats of the Impala; Sam was reading over the map while Dean kept his eyes on the road, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song on the radio. All was quiet; nothing but the sound of the engine purring, and the music filled their ears. Alyx was asleep in the back…until Sam heard her mumbling in her sleep, tossing somewhat violently, gripped in the midst of what he guessed to be a nightmare.

"No…Sam…Dad…help…_please_…wake me up!" she shouted, her eyes still closed. She clawed at the fabric of the seats, thrashing about. "Stop…please…_no_…" This time, both Winchester brothers glanced back, worried. Sam threw the map aside, and jumped into the back, kneeling on the floor of the car. He grabbed Alyx's shoulders and held her in place.

"Ally, wake up." he called, watching as she fidgeted less under his hold, beads of sweat dripping down her face. She didn't open her eyes, though. "Alyx, come on, wake up." Sam shook his niece gently, in hopes that it would release her from her dreams. "Wake up, sweetheart, come on…" Alyx's eyes fluttered open, and she sat up sharply, her eyes darting everywhere.

"Sammy…" She flung herself into his arms, sobbing, as he tried to comfort her by rubbing her back. She was shaking, scared out of her mind by what the Demon had shown her. He had threatened to kill her remaining family members if she didn't give in and join him. He had also proved his point by showing her images of how Sam, Dean, Ellen, Bobby, and Missouri would die. She explained this all to her father and uncle through the crying.

The three of them vowed, in that moment, that this would end when they got to Wyoming. They promised, as a family, to finally finish what John Winchester had started years and years ago. Their final battle was coming, and they were ready to fight it. Together.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, and sadly, I never will. That's why I write Fanfiction. A/N: Thank you very much to all of the reviewers!

The Impala came to a rumbling halt as Dad parked the car near the old cowboy cemetery. Heaving a sigh, I pushed the door open and stepped out into the chilly air. The sky was a gloomy, dark gray; it looked like it could downpour at any minute. I shuddered, pulling my jacket closer to my body. I didn't like the looks of this at all.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"I'm already getting bad vibes from this place." I admitted.

"Me too." He agreed. We walked over to Ellen and Bobby, who were standing by the trunk of the Impala, while Dad dug out the weapons. He handed everyone a gun; as he was giving me one, he paused.

"Be careful, Alyx." Dad ordered sternly.

"I always am."

"I know, kiddo, but if anything happens, stay close to one of us."

"Yes, sir." I replied automatically, taking the gun from him. We headed into the cemetery, keeping our eyes peeled and alert for any sign of Oliver. We hid ourselves behind fairly large gravestones. I stayed next to my dad, like he had ordered.

We waited…for quite awhile, I might add. And it wasn't warm out there—not by any stretch of the imagination. I was shivering the entire time, trying to pull my jacket even closer to my body for some kind of heat. It didn't work too well; the frigid wind seemed to go right through every layer of clothing I had on.

An hour or so after we arrived, Oliver appeared. We watched as he ambled very confidently over to a huge crypt that was about thirty feet away from where we were. The crypt had a pentagram in the middle of its doors, with a slot for what I guessed to be some sort of key. The key, I predicted, was the Colt. Once Oliver was just a few feet from the crypt, he pulled the Colt from the inside of his jean jacket.

That's when the five of us sprang into action, approaching Oliver cautiously with our guns trained on him. Oliver whirled around to face us, frowning.

"Hi, Oliver." I said casually, with a hint of sarcasm mixed in.

"Just take it really easy there, son." Bobby advised.

"And what if I _don't_?" Oliver taunted.

"Wait and see." I replied. We all kept our guns on him.

"What, you gonna _kill_ me?" he asked.

"That's a thought." Sam answered. Oliver laughed.

"What are you smiling at, you evil bitch?" Dad questioned. I didn't care at this point if he was addressing my boyfriend in such a way, because this _wasn't_ the _real_ Oliver I once knew. Oliver paused, as if considering something.

"Hey, lady, do me a favor," Oliver demanded, referring to Ellen. His eyes flashed yellow and black for a split second. "Put that gun to your head." We watched as Ellen's hand slowly rose to her temple, trembling severely. Everyone (including me) immediately tensed, but we continued to keep our guns trained on him.

"_Let her go_, Oliver." I commanded.

"Shoot him…" Ellen pleaded, her voice forced, and shaking.

"Everyone put your guns down…'cept you, sweetheart." Oliver ordered. Bobby, Dad, Sam and I looked at each other before reluctantly obeying his order. We placed our guns on the grass at our feet.

"Okay," Oliver answered calmly, "Thank you." And with that, he took off running. He sprinted to the crypt, the Colt in his hand. Sam, meanwhile, ran over to Ellen, moving the gun from her head moments before the shot fired. I watched as Oliver stuck the gun into the keyhole in the center of the pentagram. The pentagram started to spin, the gears inside clicking and groaning. Oliver witnessed it as well…before Dad full out sidelined him with a blow to the back of the head, with his gun. Oliver dropped onto the ground, knocked unconscious. It was better that he stayed that way until this whole ordeal was over.

The five of us stood in a clump, watching and listening to whatever was happening to the crypt. It didn't sound too good.

"Oh, no…" Bobby said gravely. He was staring wide-eyed at the pentagram spinning quickly.

"Bobby, what is it?" Ellen inquired.

"It's Hell."

We all glanced at each other, genuinely shocked.

"Take cover! Now!" Bobby yelled. We scrambled out of the way, diving behind tombstones. Dad covered my head with his arms; I was lying flat on the damp grass, my own hands over my head as well. The doors shook violently, then burst open with an amazing amount of force. I picked my head up slightly just to see what was going on, my curiosity getting the best of me. The doors released a ton of thick, black smoke, which swept over the cemetery, causing a sudden ripple before taking off into the sky. The sky seemed to all of a sudden get twice as dark; the wind picked up, and it began to thunder and lightning, but no rain fell. It was extremely noisy and chaotic around us.

I glanced at the inside of the crypt; it looked just like what I imagined Hell would appear to be—fiery, angry, and not at all pleasant. Black wisps of smoke were steadily being released; I figured those were other demons that had been trapped there. The opening of the portal had also set free many souls of those who had died; I saw their transparent forms shimmering in the dim light.

"What the hell just happened?" I asked, as Dad and I sat up, but remained behind the tombstone. Bobby and Ellen were behind the one across from us, and Sam was hiding behind the one on the other side of us.

"It's the Devil's Gate! A damn door to Hell!" Ellen shouted over the noise.

Oh boy. So _not_ good. Oliver literally just opened up Hell, and with it, the Demon's army.

Perfect.

"C'mon, we gotta shut that gate!" Ellen yelled. She, Bobby, and Sam ran to the doors of the gate, but Dad and I stayed. Dad went to pick up the Colt, which was now lying on the ground. And I stood still with a sense of dread washing over me, as I watched the railroad lines being broken by the various demons escaping from the Devil's Gate, the metal ripping and tearing loudly. The steel was mangled and scalding hot, glowing orange at the ends where they broke it with what I guessed to be hellfire.

I completely froze when I saw the Demon waltzing right on through like it was nothing.

That's when I knew we were in big trouble. Or better yet, _I_ was in trouble.

I _hate_ confrontations.


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. A/N: Thanks to the reviewers!!! You guys rock!**

Surprisingly, the Demon was heading toward Dad, not me. Yet. Panicked, I ran to help Ellen, Bobby, and Sam try to shut the Devil's Gate. There was an amazing amount of pressure on the doors; not even the three of us could close it. With my back braced against one of the doors, I kept an eye on my dad and the Demon. Dad spun around to see the Demon standing only a couple feet from him. Before Dad could even do anything, the Demon held up his hand, and flipped the Colt around, pulling it into his own hands.

Next thing I knew, Dad was thrown into the air, and flew into a gravestone, smacking his head on the hard surface. It didn't knock him out, thankfully, but it left him in a daze and with a nice-sized gash on his forehead. The Demon smirked, looking directly at me.

"Dad!" I yelled frantically, afraid that the Demon might pull something. I didn't care if he was by my dad; I ran to him anyway. Sam heard my cries and turned around to see Dad sitting on the ground, his back against the gravestone.

"Dean!" he shouted. I got to Dad, but Sam wasn't so lucky. The Demon spotted him and flung him into a tree, where he stayed pinned. I knelt down on the grass by my dad, checking out the nasty gash on his forehead that was bleeding pretty badly.

"I can heal it…" I offered, grimacing at the wound.

"No, it's all right. There's no time. I'm fine, Alyx." Dad told me.

"Well, isn't this cute. A complete role reversal, huh? Now, the daughter worries about dear old dad." The Demon chuckled. I got to my feet slowly, keeping my eye on him. Dad tried to get up, obviously to try to defend me, but was shoved back by the Demon's powers.

"Alyx," Dad warned, grabbing onto my arm before I stood up, "_Don't_."

"I'm okay, Dad. Really." I reassured him.

"She's right, Dean," The Demon teased, "She's old enough to fight her own battles." He propelled me forward a few feet using telekinesis, and I landed on my knees in a clearing, where there weren't any gravestones. "It's just you and me now, Alyx." I stayed on my knees. "See, we didn't do much talking before, what with you not cooperating and all. I'm hoping this time will be a bit different."

"Yeah. Right."

This guy was _really_ pissing me off. He wouldn't stop bugging me about this whole plan to get me to cross over to the 'dark side'.

"_You_, are my leader, Alyx. You have one of the most powerful gifts in the world. And you should be thanking me for that blessing. It's not everyday that I give a child one of _my_ talents," he stated, circling me like a crazed, bloodthirsty vulture. "But I knew that you were special, Alyx. I just _knew _if you were given the chance, that you'd be somethin' great. And look at you now—you're smart, beautiful, clever...if you could just _learn_ to use this ability, you could do so much."

"Kill people? _Right_. Go to hell."

"Been there," he smiled, "Done that." He paused, standing in front of me. He crouched down to my level, since I was still kneeling. "Trust me, kid, you want to be a good little soldier here."

"Yeah? And what if I'm _not_?" I asked sarcastically. "Look, _pal_, I told you already. I'm _not_ going to be involved—in any way, shape, or form—in your _sick_, sadistic plans to take over the world, all right?"

"We'll see about that," he replied. I got to my feet and tried to make a break for it, when all of a sudden a circle of fire shot up from the ground out of nowhere, surrounding me and the Demon. I backed away from the flames quickly, and turned around to face him. "Scared, Alyx?"

"No."

Okay, so I was completely terrified, but I wasn't about to admit that out loud.

"You're lying," he stated. Damn him. "You've been afraid of fire since you were a little girl…when you found out how your mother died. I'm sure you don't remember that night…but _I_ do. She begged me to spare your life with her last breaths." Tears were burning in the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall. He'd crossed the line with that one.

"Of course, I had no intention of killing you then. But now, since you've refused to take my offer, I see that I have no choice," The Demon declared. I swallowed hard. "Believe me, I don't want to do this, Alyx. You're a nice girl. It's a shame, really. You could've done somethin' amazing, kid. I'm sorry it had to end this way." With his powers, he forced me to me knees again. He started to concentrate, probably to use his power of inflicting wounds. I waited for the pain, but it didn't come. There was only this wave of energy that kind of disrupted my balance for a moment. The Demon stared at me, just as confused as I was.

Then, a revelation hit me. The pentagram. The pentagram amulet Oliver had given me—it was protecting me from the effects of his powers. Maybe, if I could somehow channel the energy he was throwing at me, I could push it back over to him and knock him off balance. Would I be strong enough to do that?

When he tried again, I braced myself against the energy, forcing it to go back the other way, hoping to give him a taste of his own damn medicine. It worked; he ended up stumbling backward a bit, sporting a bloody nose. I _could_ use his own power against him! It actually worked! He had tried to do the same to me but failed because I was wearing the amulet. Apparently, as a demon, he didn't have any resistance to wounds inflicted by his own ability. A weakness, besides the Colt. He even seemed shocked by this.

"What the…?" he wondered.

"Well," I said, smirking slightly, "This is one Winchester you can't kill."

"I wouldn't be so sure." He lunged at me, but I dove out of the way, dodging a punch and landing on my stomach on the ground. I scrambled to my feet, and focused on him as he came toward me again. The Demon stopped in his tracks when a crimson liquid started to spread by his chest. He grimaced, flinching somewhat at the new wound. He charged forward, trying to ignore the pain I now had control of. I sent another wave of pain over him, and he almost doubled over mid-step. I tried to back out of the way as he continued heading toward me, but I had nowhere to go, since the fire was still surrounding us. The Demon slapped me across the face, threw me onto the ground, and before I could fight back, he ripped the amulet from my neck and tossed it outside the circle.

That's when I knew I was in a _very_ bad position. Practically defenseless.

_Great_.

I was a dead girl walking…


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, just borrowing for fun. A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! Positive feedback is always appreciated!

I lay on my back, propping myself up on my elbows. The Demon stood over me, grinning maliciously. I swallowed hard, my heart rate increasing. He stared at me and laughed, obviously sensing my fear.

"You disappoint me, Ally."

"It's Alyx." I said automatically, through gritted teeth.

"I thought you'd be smarter than this. I didn't think you'd fall so quickly, not with you being so strong. See how easy this power works? You like having that kind of authority, don't you? To be able to determine someone's fate with your mind alone."

"No. _No_. I'm _not_ like you."

"Uh-huh. Well, let me show you how much I _love_ being able to use my ability. Unlike you, I don't ignore it. I _embrace_ it."

Fearful, I got on my knees; almost stood up but a searing, white-hot pain shot through my abdomen. I doubled over, wincing, clutching my stomach. I pulled my hands away, and saw blood covering them. I stared up at the Demon, feeling a mix of emotions, but above all, shock. He now held _my _fate in his hands. I didn't like that thought. Not at all.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" The Demon taunted. I glared at him, trying to gather up some strength to deepen the wound I had given him earlier, but I couldn't.

"Dad…" I called weakly, as another wave of pain gripped me; I gritted my teeth, one hand clawing at the cold, damp earth under my knees.

"Alyx!" Dad yelled, sheer panic and concern evident in his voice. From the corner of my eye, I saw him try to get up and come toward me, but the Demon pushed him back. "Alyx! Damn it, leave her alone!"

"Daddy won't be here to save you now, _princess_," The Demon teased. "And guess what? Hate to break it to you, but you won't be able to heal this one so easily." Yet another intense pain hit me, and I cried out, tears stinging in the corners of my eyes. There was no use fighting them back now; instead, I let them stream down my face. There was blood covering the midsection of my shirt, and I was beginning to taste it in my mouth, which I knew wasn't a good sign. A sudden blow of energy knocked me on my side, and I lay there, unable to move any longer. I didn't want to give up, but the pain was so bad that I couldn't do anything.

I watched as the Demon turned away from me, taking out the Colt. He pointed it at my dad—who was still pinned to the gravestone—and got ready to shoot. What, was he planning to take us _both_ out?

The Demon never got the chance to fire the Colt, because someone tackled him to the ground, making the gun fly out of his hand. That someone, I saw, was Grandpa John. Well, his spirit, at least. He'd been trapped in Hell—from what I had been told by Sam; Dad never really discussed it—because of a deal he had made with the Demon. Grandpa John had traded his life for my dad's, so he could live. That happened before I was born; the last time they had gone up against the Demon.

The Demon's host body fell to the ground, emitting black smoke from his mouth, and forming into a silhouette of a man. Grandpa John wrestled with it for a few moments. He ended up getting flung back a couple feet when the Demon shook him off. The smoke returned to the host body quickly, but by that time, Dad had possession of the Colt. The Demon got to his feet, and looked right at Dad; he was rather shocked to see him sitting there with the Colt trained on him.

There was a tense moment that passed, and then the final, fatal shot rang through the night air. It made contact with the Demon's chest, piercing his heart with a deadly blow. I watched, with satisfaction, as he convulsed, jolts of what looked like electricity coursing through his body. He dropped onto the ground, lifeless, the yellow glow of hatred in his eyes burning out immediately afterward. Sam was released from his hold, and slid to the ground on his knees. In all of the excitement of what had just occurred, I forgot momentarily that I was badly injured.

Although my vision was getting somewhat hazy, I saw someone walk right through the circle of fire that still surrounded me. I felt strong, slightly unfamiliar hands lift me gently from the ground, and soon I was in someone's arms. I looked up to see Grandpa John's face. I offered a smile, wincing a little from the sharp sting of the wound. Grandpa John stepped through the flames as if it was nothing. I knew it didn't effect him because he was only a spirit.

I heard the crash of the doors of the crypt; Ellen and Bobby could now close the Devil's Gate. I listened to their hurried footsteps coming in my direction. Soon, Dad, Sam, Ellen and Bobby were crowding around us. Dad took me from Grandpa John's arms and knelt on the ground, holding me carefully in his lap. Sam knelt down beside him, as he examined the wound. Ellen, Bobby, and Grandpa John looked on gravely; the expressions on their faces didn't make me feel any better.

General POV

"Sammy…" Alyx called frailly, searching for some kind of comfort. Sam reached out and took his niece's hand in his, trying to ignore how cold it felt. She looked extremely pale, and she was loosing a lot of blood. The sight hit home for the younger Winchester; he had seen Dean in the same condition years earlier. If they didn't get to a hospital soon…

Sam pushed that thought aside quickly. He didn't even _want_ to think about that. He simply couldn't.

"It's okay, Ally," Sam said. "It'll be okay. I promise."

Only he wasn't so sure. Deep down, Sam knew the severity of the situation. He wanted to whole-heartedly believe in the promise he'd made to her, but he couldn't.

"Dad…" Alyx whispered, her breathing becoming labored and uneven, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"You didn't do anything wrong. Just hold on, all right?" Dean replied, his voice trembling a bit. "How far from the nearest hospital?" He directed the question at Bobby. The old hunter sighed solemnly.

"Fifteen, twenty miles at least." He answered. Dean cursed under his breath. He didn't know if she'd be able to make it that far. She was strong, for sure, but the injury was getting the better of her. Why wasn't she healing? Dean wondered. He looked down at Alyx, who seemed so helpless and small in his arms, wishing to just trade places with her; relieve the pain—do _something_. _Anything_.

"Stay with me, Alyx. C'mon, sweetheart." Dean demanded softly, glancing at his father, John, who was now holding the pentagram amulet out to him. Would it help heal her? He placed the pendant around her neck, careful not to move her too much. They waited a tense minute or two, and found that the amulet wasn't working. Frustrated and scared, Dean cursed again, looking up at the dark sky, as if seeking answers.

_Don't you _dare_ take her away from me, damn it._

He wasn't about to let that demon take another casualty down with him. Dean was ready to get to his feet with Alyx in his arms when Oliver came running toward the group, upon seeing his fallen girlfriend. Ellen and Bobby parted to let him through, and he dropped to his knees by her side.

"Alyx." he said, grabbing her other hand and stroking the side of her damp face lovingly.

"Oliver—you're okay?" Alyx asked quietly.

"I'm fine…just confused." He laughed, trying to lighten the depressing mode. He hated to see her like this. What had happened? How long had he blacked out?

"She isn't healing. We have to get to a hospital." Dean said sternly.

"You don't need a hospital." Oliver replied. Dean and Sam looked at him like he was insane.

What was this kid taking about? How could he _possibly_ help her?

Dean and Sam just hoped that he was right. And whatever he was going to do, it better work. Fast.


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own Supernatural. A/N: Thank you to all of the reviewers! Sorry I keep leaving you with cliffhangers…I'm just evil like that :)

General POV

"What are you talking about? The amulet isn't working; she _needs_ a doctor." Sam agreed firmly.

"She wasn't wearing it at the time she was injured, right?" Oliver asked. Sam nodded. "It can still work, it just needs a little help." The young boy held Alyx's hand in his tightly, and touched the pentagram with his other hand. He started to say a healing prayer in Latin. It was something his mother had taught him years ago. She had told him to memorize it, just in case he would ever need it. Combined with his own healing ability, it was powerful enough to cure any wound.

"_Ave, crux sancta, virtus nostra._

_Ave, crux adoranda, laus et gloria nostra._

_Ave, crux, auxilium et refugium nostrum._

_Ave, crux, consolatio omnium moerentium;_

_Salve, crux, victoria et spes nostra;_

_Salve, crux, defensio et vita nostra._

_Salve, crux, redemptio et liberatio nostra._

_Salve, crux, signum salutis, atque inexpugnabilis murus contra omnem virtutem inimici._

_Sit mihi crux resurrectio mortis meae._

_Sit mihi crux triumphus adversus daemones._

_Sit mihi crux requies tribulationis meae. _

_Sit mihi crux medicina aegrotationis meae._

_Sit mihi crux in omnibus angustiis meis solatium._

_Sit mihi crux in infirmitatibus meis medicamentum, atque contra omnia adversa tutamentum. Amen._"

Miraculously, the pain of the wound faded, disappearing altogether by the time Oliver was finished speaking. Alyx found that her strength had suddenly returned, and she felt ten times better. Sitting up slowly, she lifted up her shirt just enough to examine the injury.

It was completely gone. Oliver had, in fact, healed her. She instantly embraced him, flinging her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. Dean stood up, and once Alyx let go of Oliver, he pulled her to her feet. He hugged her, not wanting to let go. When he did, he gave Oliver a clap on the back approvingly. He'd almost lost his daughter; if it weren't for him, she'd be dead.

John looked on with approval. Dean, realizing his father was still there, turned to face him, a moment of understanding passing between them. John reached out and placed his hand on his eldest son's shoulder, grinning. He smiled at his sons and granddaughter proudly. None of the Winchesters could believe their battle with the Demon was finally over. And they had won together as a family, like Missouri said they would. The small group of hunters watched as John backed away, and after offering one last smile, disappeared in a white light.

The group walked over to where the Demon's host body lay lifeless on the cold ground. Alyx looked at Oliver, who seemed emotionless. She grabbed his hand, holding it tightly with hers.

"Thank you." The young boy said to the hunters. He felt that an extreme weight was finally lifted from his shoulders, knowing he wouldn't have to worry about his father coming after him anymore. He could live like a normal person. Well, more normally than before. After all, he was still part demon—even though his demonic blackouts were gone—and he continued to have supernatural abilities.

"I can't believe he's dead." Alyx said, looking at her father and uncle.

"I know what you mean. This is what we've worked for our whole lives, and now it's over," Sam agreed. "I kinda don't know what to say."

"I do," Dean replied, smirking slightly. He walked closer to the corpse, and crouched down to look at his face. "That was for our family, you son of a bitch."

A/N: The prayer I used in the chapter wasn't really a healing prayer, but the words in it seemed to fit. I don't speak Latin, but I found the Latin and English versions online. The prayer comes from "Hail, Holy Cross, Our Strength"

P.S.—The next chapter is the last one for this story:(


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, just Alyx and Oliver. **

**A/N: This is the LAST chapter…enjoy!!!**

Alyx's POV 

We said goodbye to Ellen and Bobby, thanking them for their help. Ellen had made plans to stay at Bobby's place until she could get back on her feet with the whole Roadhouse situation. We watched the two of them drive away, and then we walked back to the Impala.

"So, what'd I miss?" Oliver asked, draping his arm around my shoulder. I laughed.

"Oh, nothing much," I replied, playing along with his sarcasm. "A car chase, a shoot out, me breaking out of jail, your father being a complete ass, opening up a portal to Hell…ya know, the usual."

We climbed into the backseat of the Impala, as Dad was starting up the engine. Oliver, thinking that my dad wasn't paying attention, leaned over and started kissing me. I kissed him back, of course…until both Winchester men noticed and turned around. Sam cleared his throat, and the two of us broke apart, blushing like crazy.

"Get. A. Room." Dad stated, joking.

"That can be arranged," I answered, messing with him, "but you're payin'." Dad and Sam had the same exact horrified look on their faces. It was priceless.

"Kidding." I laughed, amused. I shook my head and settled against Oliver's shoulder as we pulled away from the cemetery.

We could relax, finally, knowing that the Demon was gone and Oliver was no longer in danger of staying evil. Granted, there were still things out there—like the hundreds of demons that were released from the Devil's Gate—that needed to be hunted. But for the time being, we could just enjoy life. Everything was right once again. For now, at least. We knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.

You know, since us Winchesters can _never_ seem to stay out of trouble.

Trouble usually finds us.

And when it does, we'll fight it.

Together.

A/N: I can't believe it's finished! But don't worry, this isn't the last you'll see of Alyx and Oliver, I promise. There will be a sequel, and a few other side stories, plus "Days In Stride".

**A huge thank you to everyone who kept reading and reviewing this story! You guys are awesome!!!**

**P.S.—If you have any ideas for future stories involving Oliver and Alyx that you'd like to see written, feel free to PM me. Thanks! **


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